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Copyright, 1886, 1899, by 
Charles Scribner’s Sons 

copies received. 



HIRST COPY, 


•A ft *5*1 <a 


THE DEVINNE PRESS. 


PREFACE TO THE 
SHENANDOAH EDITION 


It is quite natural that an author with a family of 
grown-up books should be glad to see them gathered 
together in reunion, not for some anniversary or 
holiday occasion, but to live together permanently, to 
sit about one long table, or, to speak practically, to 
stand upon one long shelf. 

Some of these books have been more prosperous 
than their brothers and sisters ; some have appeared 
before the public in various shapes and sizes, and even 
in different languages ; some have worn rich attire, 
with various changes of costume, while others have 
not yet gone so largely into society, nor known all the 
pleasures of a varied toilet. But here, in this edition, 
as they stand side by side, each one, judged by its out- 
ward appearance, is just as good as any of the others. 
Even chronological precedence has been set aside, for 
“The Late Mrs. Hull,” which is hot the oldest book, 
takes her place at the head of the line. 

I have always been very much at home with my 
books ; I have lived in most of the scenes they repre- 
sent, and in a general way I know what my characters 
look like. The reason of this is that when I make my 
people say things and do things, I like to see them as 
they speak and act. Their images must be before me, 


v 


PREFACE 


and the more real they are the better. Therefore, it 
often happens that after I have planned a character I 
look about for an outward semblance with which I can 
clothe his fictitious existence ; then, whenever that man 
appears in the story I know the fashion in which his 
clothes are cut and the manner in which he wears his 
hat. But, although I like to draw from models from 
life, these models generally sit only for countenance 
and clothes, and have nothing to do with the moral 
bias and intellectual activity of the heroes and hero- 
ines I construct. 

If I had never seen Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine I 
do not believe I could have given literary life to those 
dear old ladies. But if they were now here with us and 
should read about their adventures, I think they might 
be interested, but I am sure they would never imagine 
that they had anything to do with the story. If the 
original of Pomona should be told that she appeared 
in one of my stories, I know she would be greatly 
pleased, and that she would immediately set her fancy 
to work to array her in costly and well-fitting robes ; 
to put upon her head a hat with waving plumes or 
clusters of richly colored flowers ; to squeeze her feet 
into a pair of new shoes two sizes too small for her ; 
and then, with a fan in one hand and a bouquet in the 
other, would proudly take her place as the most beau- 
tiful and high-born lady in all the pages of all my 
books. As for any association between herself and a 
girl on a canal-boat, she would not think of such a 
thing, even if she were willing to occupy her time in 
reading about the performances of the low-born and 
homespun people who play their parts in “ Rudder 
Grange.” 


vi 


PREFACE 


What jolly old sea-captain on Cape Cod could pos- 
sibly object if I took his grizzly visage, his sturdy 
figure and sea-stained clothes, and gave them to an- 
other sailor, with a different name, and who had never 
in his life been south of Nova Scotia? Even if the 
venerable tar should know— which he never would— 
that in any way he had been used as a model, he 
would understand, if he were a reasonable mariner, 
that it would be impossible for me to make a sailor in 
a seaman-like fashion if I, myself, did not see a sailor 
as I wrote. 

So, having really seen almost all my people, I am 
delighted to meet them again, and I would recognize 
nearly all of them by their personal appearance, even 
if I did not know their names. This is an advantage 
I possess over my readers, for my descriptions of my 
men and women can never be so good as those mental 
pictures of them which only I can see. 

But, after all, my satisfaction with this family gath- 
ering of novels and stories is not the main point to be 
considered ; it is the reading public whose opinions 
are of real value. If a fair proportion of those good 
people who have read the stories shall wish to read 
them again, and if a fair proportion of that im- 
mense multitude who have never read them at all 
shall be willing to take this new edition into their 
families and to give it welcome and shelf-room, then 
shall the author be most happy to know that, through 
his characters, he is meeting again old friends and mak- 
ing new ones. 

About the time these volumes were beginning to 
form themselves into a company, to march together 
toward whatever measure of success shall lie before 
vii 


PREFACE 


them, I made for myself a new home in the beautiful 
valley of the Shenandoah. So, as the new manner of 
life of the books and the new manner of life of their 
author began together, it was determined to call this 
uniform series the “Shenandoah Edition ; ” and al- 
though it may not flow as steadily and as rapidly into 
the channels of trade and into the good opinion of its 
readers as its beautiful namesake rushes onward, 
regardless of rocks or shoals, to throw itself into the 
arms of the young Potomac, the river will always 
present a most excellent example to the books. 

Frank R. Stockton. 


Claymont, 

Charles Town, West Va. 
September 1, 1899. 


viii 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 












THE LATE MRS. NULL 


CHAPTER I 

T HERE was a wide entrance-gate to the old family 
mansion of Midbranch, but it was never opened 
to admit the family or visitors ; although occasionally 
a load of wood, drawn by two horses and two mules, 
came between its tall chestnut posts, and was taken by 
a roundabout way among the trees to a spot at the back 
of the house, where the chips of several generations 
of sturdy wood- choppers had formed a ligneous soil 
deeper than the arable surface of any portion of the 
nine hundred and fifty acres which formed the farm 
of Midbranch. This seldom-opened gate was in a 
corner of the lawn, and the driving of carriages, or 
the riding of horses through it to the porch at the 
front of the house would have been the ruin of the 
short, thick grass which had covered that lawn, it was 
generally believed, ever since Virginia became a State. 

But there had to be some way for people who came 
in carriages or on horseback to get into the house, and 
therefore the fence at the bottom of the lawn, at a 
point directly in front of the porch, was crossed by a 
set of broad wooden steps, five outside and five inside, 
with a platform at the top. These stairs were wide 

3 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


enough to accommodate eight people abreast j so that 
if a large carriage-load of visitors arrived, none of them 
need delay in crossing the fence. At the outside of the 
steps ran the narrow road which entered the planta- 
tion a quarter of a mile away, and passed around the 
lawn and the garden to the barns and stables at the 
back. 

On the other side of the road, undivided from it by 
hedge or fence, stretched, like a sea gently moved by a 
ground-swell, a vast field, sometimes planted in tobacco, 
and sometimes in wheat. In the midst of this field 
stood a tall persimmon-tree which yearly dropped its 
half-candied fruit upon the first light snow of the 
winter. It is true that persimmons, quite fit to eat, 
were to be found on this tree at an earlier period than 
this, but such fruit was never noticed by the people in 
those parts, who would not rudely wrench from Jack 
Frost his one little claim to rivalry with the sun as a 
fruit-ripener. To the right of the field was a wide 
extent of pasture-land, running down to a small stream, 
or “ branch/ 7 which, flowing between two other streams 
of the same kind a mile or two on either side of it, had 
given its name to the place. In front, to the left, lay a 
great forest of chestnut, oak, sassafras, and sweet-gum, 
with here and there a clump of tall pines, standing up 
straight and stiff with an air of Puritanic condemnation 
of the changing fashions of the foliage about them. 

On one side of the platform of the broad stile, which 
has been mentioned, sat, one summer afternoon, the 
lady of the house. She was a young woman, and al- 
though her face was a good deal shadowed by her far- 
spreading hat, it was easy to perceive that she was 
a handsome one. She was the niece of Mr. Robert 


4 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Brandon, the elderly bachelor who owned Midbranch, 
and her mother, long since dead, had called her Ro- 
berta, which was as near as she could come to the name 
of her only brother. 

Miss Roberta’s father was a man whose mind and 
time were entirely given up to railroads ; and although 
he nominally lived in New York, he was, for the 
greater part of the year, engaged in endeavors to for- 
ward his interests somewhere west of the Mississippi. 
Two or three months of the winter were generally 
spent in his city home. At these times he had his 
daughter with him, but the rest of the year she lived 
with her uncle, whose household she directed with 
much good will and judgment. The old gentleman 
did not keep her all the summer at Midbranch. He 
knew what was necessary for a young lady who had 
been educated in Germany and Switzerland, and who 
had afterwards made a very favorable impression in 
Paris and London $ and so, during the hot weather, he 
took her with him to one of the fashionable Southern 
resorts, where they always stayed exactly six weeks. 

The gentleman who was sitting on the other side of 
the platform, with his face turned towards her, had 
known Miss Roberta for a year or more, having met 
her at the North, and also in the Virginia mountains ; 
and being now on a visit to the Green Sulphur Springs, 
about four miles from Midbranch, he rode over to see 
her nearly every day. There was nothing surprising 
in this, because the Green Sulphur, once a much- 
frequented resort, had seen great changes, and now, 
although the end of the regular season had not ar- 
rived, it had Mr. Lawrence Croft for its only guest. 
There was a spacious hotel there ; there was a village 

5 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of cottages of varying sizes $ there were buildings for 
servants and managers ; there was a tenpin-alley and 
a quoit-ground ; there were arbors and swings ; and a 
square hole in a stone slab, through which a little pool 
of greenish water could be seen, with a tin cup, some- 
what rusty, lying by it. But all was quiet and de- 
serted, except one cottage, in which the man lived who 
had charge of the place, and where Mr. Croft boarded. 
It was very pleasant for him to ride over to Midbranch 
and take a walk with Miss Roberta ; and this was what 
they had been doing to-day. 

Horseback rides had been suggested, but Mr. Bran- 
don objected to these. He knew Mr. Croft to be a 
young man of good family and very comfortable for- 
tune, and he liked him very much when he had him 
there to dinner, but he did not wish his niece to go 
galloping around the country with him. To quiet 
walks in the woods, and through the meadows, he 
could, of course, have no objection. A good many of 
Mr. Brandon’s principles, like certain of his books, 
were kept upon a top shelf, but Miss Roberta always 
liked to humor the few which the old gentleman was 
wont to have within easy reach. 

This afternoon they had rambled through the woods, 
where the hard, smooth road wound picturesquely 
through the places in which it had been easiest to 
make a road, and where the great trunks of the trees 
were partly covered by clinging vines, which Miss 
Roberta knew to be either Virginia creeper or 
poison-oak, although she did not remember which 
of these had clusters of five leaves, and which of 
three. 

The horse on which Mr. Croft had ridden over from 
6 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


the Springs was tied to a fence near by, and he now 
seemed to indicate by his restless movements that it 
was quite time for the gentleman to go home ; but with 
this opinion Mr. Croft decidedly differed. He had had 
a long walk with the lady, and plenty of opportunities 
to say anything that he might choose, but still there 
was something very important which had not been said, 
and which Mr. Croft very much wished to say before 
he left Miss Roberta that afternoon. His only reason 
for hesitation was the fact that he did not know what 
he wished to say. 

He was a man who always kept a lookout on the 
bows of his daily action ; in storm or in calm, in fog or 
in bright sunshine, that lookout must be at his post ; 
and upon his reports it depended whether Mr. Croft 
set more sail, put on more steam, reversed his engine, 
or anchored his vessel. A report from this lookout 
was what he hoped to elicit by the remark which he 
wished to make. He desired greatly to know whether 
Miss Roberta March looked upon him in the light of a 
lover, or in that of an intimate acquaintance, whose 
present intimacy depended a good deal upon the 
propinquity of Midbranch and the Green Sulphur 
Springs. He had endeavored to produce upon her 
mind the latter impression. If he ever wished her to 
regard him as a lover he could do this in the easiest 
and most straightforward way, but the other procedure 
was much more difficult, and he was not certain that 
he had succeeded in it. How to find out in what light 
she viewed him without allowing the lady to perceive 
his purpose was a very delicate operation. 

“ I wish,’ 7 said Miss Roberta, poking with the end of 
her parasol at some half- withered wild flowers which 

7 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


lay on the steps beneath her, u that you would change 
your mind, and take supper with us.” 

Mr. Croft’s mind was very busy endeavoring to 
think of some casual remark, some observation regard- 
ing man, nature, or society, or even an anecdote or 
historical incident, which, if brought into the con- 
versation, might produce upon the lady’s countenance 
some shade of expression, or some variation in her 
tone or words, which would give him the information 
he sought for. But what he said was : “ Are they 
really suppers that you have, or are they only teas ? ” 
u Now I know,” said the lady, “ why you have some- 
times taken dinner with us, but never supper. You 
were afraid that it would be a tea.” 

Lawrence Croft was thinking that if this girl be- 
lieved that he was in love with her, it would make a 
great deal of difference in his present course of action. 
If such were the case, he ought not to come here so 
often, or, in fact, he ought not to come at all, until he 
had decided for himself what he was going to do. But 
what could he say that would cause her, for the brief- 
est moment, to unveil her idea of himself. u I never 
could endure,” he said, “ those meals which consist of 
thin shavings of bread with thick plasters of butter, 
aided and abetted by sweet cakes, preserves, and tea.” 

“ You should have reserved those remarks,” she said, 
u until you had found out what sort of evening meal 
we have.” 

He could certainly say something, he thought. 
Perhaps it might be some little fanciful story which 
would call up in her mind, without his appearing to 
intend it, some thought of his relationship to her as a 
lover — that is, if she had ever had such a notion. If 

8 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


this could be done, her face would betray the fact. 
But, not being ready to make such a remark, he said : 
“ I beg your pardon, but do you really have suppers in 
the English fashion f ” 

“ Oh, no,” answered Miss Roberta, “ we don’t have a 
great cold joint, with old cheese, and pitchers of brown 
stout and ale, but neither do we content ourselves with 
thin bread and butter, and preserves. We have coffee 
as well as tea, hot rolls, fleecy and light, hot batter 
bread made of our finest corn meal, hot biscuits and 
stewed fruit, with plenty of sweet milk and buttermilk ; 
and, if anybody wants it, he can always have a slice 
of cold ham.” 

“ If I could only feel sure,” thought Mr. Croft, “ that 
she looked upon me merely as an acquaintance, I would 
cease to trouble my mind on this subject, and let every- 
thing go on as before. But I am not sure, and I would 
rather not come here again until I am.” “And at 
what hour,” he asked, “ do you partake of a meal like 
that?” 

“In summer-time,” said Miss Roberta, “we have 
supper when it is dark enough to light the lamps. My 
uncle dislikes very much to be deprived, by the advent 
of a meal, of the outdoor enjoyment of a late after- 
noon, or, as we call it down here, the evening.” 

“ It would be easy enough,” thought Mr. Croft, “ for 
me to say something about my being suddenly obliged 
to go away, and then notice its effect upon her. But, 
apart from the fact that I would not do anything so 
vulgar and commonplace, it would not advantage me 
in the slightest degree. She would see through the 
flimsiness of my purpose, and, no matter how she 
looked upon me, would show nothing but a well-bred 

9 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


regret that I should be obliged to go away at such a 
pleasant season.” “ I think the hour for your supper,” 
said he, “is a very suitable one, but I am not sure 
that such a variety of hot bread would agree with 
me.” 

“ Did you ever see more healthy -looking ladies and 
gentlemen than you find in Virginia?” asked Miss 
March. 

“ It is not that I want to know if she looks favorably 
upon me,” said Lawrence Croft to himself, “ for when 
I wish to discover that, I shall simply ask her. What 
I wish now to know is whether or not she considers 
me at all as a lover. There surely must be something 
I can say which will give me a clew.” “ The Vir- 
ginians, as a rule,” he replied, “ are certainly a very 
well-grown and vigorous race.” 

“ In spite of the hot bread,” she said with a smile. 

Just then Mr. Croft believed himself struck by a 
happy thought. “You are not prepared, I suppose, 
to say, in consequence of it j and that recalls the fact 
that so much in this world happens in spite of things, 
instead of in consequence of them.” 

“ I don’t know that I exactly understand,” said Miss 
Roberta. 

“Well, for instance,” said Mr. Croft, “take the case 
of marriage. Don’t you think that a man is more apt 
to marry in spite of his belief that he would be much 
better off as a bachelor, than in consequence of a 
conviction that a benedict’s life would suit him 
better?” 

“That,” said she, “depends a good deal on the 
woman.” 

As she said this Lawrence glanced quickly at her to 
10 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

observe the expression of her countenance. The coun- 
tenance plainly indicated that its owner had suddenly 
been made aware that the afternoon was slipping 
away, and that she had forgotten certain household 
duties that devolved upon her. 

“ Here comes Peggy/ 7 she said, “ and I must go into 
the house and give out supper. Don’t you now think 
it would be well for you to follow our discussion of a 
Virginia supper by eating one?” 

At this moment there arrived at the bottom of the 
inside steps a small girl, very black, very solemn, and 
very erect, with her hands folded in front of her very 
straight up-and-down calico frock, her features ex- 
pressive of a wooden stolidity which nothing but a 
hammer or chisel could alter, and with large eyes fixed 
upon a far-away, which, apparently, had disappeared, 
leaving the eyes in a condition of idle outgo. 

“Miss Rob,” said this wooden Peggy, “Aun 7 Judy 
says it’s more’n time to come housekeep.” 

“ Which means,” said Miss Roberta, rising, “ that I 
must go and get my key-basket, and descend into the 
store-room. W on 7 1 you come in ? We shall find uncle 
on the back porch.” 

Mr. Croft declined with thanks, and took his leave, 
and the lady walked across the smooth grass to the 
house, followed by the rigid Peggy. 

The young man approached his impatient horse, and, 
not without some difficulty, got himself mounted. He 
had not that facility of sympathetically combining 
his own will and that of his horse which comes to men 
who, from their early boyhood, are wont to consider 
horses as objects quite as necessary to locomotion as 
shoes and stockings. But Lawrence Croft was a fair 

11 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


graduate of a riding-school, and he went away in very 
good style to his cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs. 
“I believe,” he said to himself as he rode through 
the woods, “that Miss March expects no more of me 
than she would expect of any very intimate friend. I 
shall feel perfectly free, therefore, to continue my in- 
vestigations regarding two points : First, is she worth 
having ? Second, will she have me ! And I must be 
very careful not to get the position of these points 
reversed.” 

When Miss Roberta went into the store-room, it 
was Peggy who, under the supervision of her mistress, 
measured out the fine white flour for the biscuits for 
supper. Peggy was being educated to do these things 
properly, and she knew exactly how many times the 
tin scoop must fill itself in the barrel for the ordinary 
needs of the family. Miss Roberta stood, her eyes 
contemplatively raised to the narrow window, through 
which she could see a flush of sunset mingling itself 
with the outer air ; and Peggy scooped once, twice, 
thrice, four times ; then she stopped, and, raising her 
head, there came into the far-away gloom of her eyes 
a quick sparkle like a flash of black lightning. She 
made another and entirely supplementary scoop, and 
then she stopped, and let the tin utensil fall into the 
barrel with a gentle thud. 

“ That will do,” said Miss Roberta. 

That night, when she should have been in her bed, 
Peggy sat alone by the hearth in Aunt Judy’s cabin, 
baking a cake. It was a peculiar cake, for she could 
get no sugar for it, but she had supplied this deficiency 
with molasses. It was made of Miss Roberta’s finest 
white flour, and there were eggs in it and butter, and 
12 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


it contained, besides, three raisins, an olive, and a 
prune. When the outside of the cake had been suffi- 
ciently baked, and every portion of it had been scru- 
pulously eaten, the good little Peggy murmured to 
herself : “ It’s pow’ful comfortin’ for Miss Rob to have 
sumfin’ on her min’.” 


CHAPTER II 

About a week after Mr. Lawrence Croft had had his 
conversation with Miss March on the stile steps at 
Midbranch, he was obliged to return to his home in 
New York. He was not a man of business, but he 
had business ; and, besides this, he considered if he con- 
tinued much longer to reside in the utterly attraction- 
less cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs, and rode 
over every day to the very attractive house at Mid- 
branch, that the points mentioned in the previous 
chapter might get themselves reversed. He was a 
man who was proud of being, under all circumstances, 
frank and honest with himself. He did not wish, if it 
could be avoided, to deceive other people, but he was 
prudent and careful about exhibiting his motives and 
intended course of action to his associates. Himself, 
however, he took into his strictest confidence. He was 
fond of the idea that he went into the battle of life 
covered and protected by a great shield, but that the 
inside of the shield was a mirror in which he could 
always see himself. Looking into this mirror, he now 
saw that, if he did not soon get away from Miss Ro- 
berta, he would lay down his shield and surrender, 
and it was his intent that this should not happen 
until he wished it to happen. 

14 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


It was very natural, when Lawrence reached New 
York, that he should take pleasure in talking about 
Miss Roberta March and her family with any one who 
knew them. He was particularly anxious, if he could 
do so delicately and without exciting any suspicion of 
his object, to know as much as possible about Sylvester 
March, the lady’s father. In doing this, he did not 
feel that he was prying into the affairs of others, but 
he could not be true to himself unless he looked well 
in advance before he made the step on which his mind 
was set. It was in this way that he happened to learn 
that, about two years before, Miss March had been 
engaged to be married, but that the engagement had 
been broken off for reasons not known to his inform- 
ants, and he could find out nothing about the gentle- 
man, except that his name was Junius Keswick. 

The fact that the lady had had a lover put her in 
a new light before Lawrence Croft. He had had an 
idea, suggested by the very friendly nature of their 
intercourse, that she was a woman whose mind did not 
run out to love or marriage, but now that he knew 
that she was susceptible of being wooed and won, 
because these things had actually happened to her, 
he was very glad that he had come away from Mid- 
branch. 

The impression soon became very strong upon the 
mind of Lawrence that he would like to know what 
kind of man was this former lover. He had known 
Miss March about a year, and at the time of his first 
acquaintance with her she must have come very fresh 
from this engagement. To study the man to whom 
Roberta March had been willing to engage herself 
was, to Lawrence’s mode of thinking, if not a pre- 
15 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


requisite procedure in his contemplated course of 
action, at least a very desirable one. 

But he was rather surprised to find that no one 
knew much about Mr. Junius Keswick, or could give 
him any account of his present whereabouts, although 
he had been, at the time when his engagement was in 
force, a resident of New York. To consult a directory 
was, therefore, an obvious first step in the affair ; and, 
with this intent, Mr. Croft entered, one morning, an 
apothecary’s shop in a street which, though a busy 
one, was in a rather out-of-the-way part of the city. 

“We haven’t any directory, sir,” said the clerk, 
“but if you will step across the street you can find 
one at that little shop with the green door. Every- 
body goes there to look at the directory.” 

The green door on the opposite side of the street, 
approached by a single flat step of stone, had a tin 
sign upon it, on which was painted : 

“ INFORMATION 
OF EVERY VARIETY 
FURNISHED WITHIN.” 

Pushing open the door, Lawrence entered a long, 
narrow room, not very well lighted, with a short 
counter on one side, and some desks, partially screened 
by a curtain, at the farther end. A boy was behind 
the counter, and to him Lawrence addressed himself, 
asking permission to look at a city directory. 

“ One cent, if you look yourself ; three cents, if we 
look,” said the boy, producing a thick volume from 
beneath the counter. 

“One cent?” said Lawrence, smiling at the oddity 
16 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

of this charge, as he opened the book and turned to 
the letter K. 

“Yes,” said the boy, “and if the fine print hurts 
your eyes, we’ll look for three cents.” 

At this moment a man came from one of the desks 
at the other end of the room, and handed the boy a 
letter, with which that young person immediately 
departed. The new-comer, a smooth-shaven man of 
about thirty, with the air of the proprietor or head 
manager very strong upon him, took the boy’s position 
behind the counter, and remarked to Lawrence : 
“Most people, when they first come here, think it 
rather queer to pay for looking at the directory, but 
you see we don’t keep a directory to coax people to 
come in to buy medicines or anything else. We sell 
nothing but information, and part of our stock is what 
you get out of a directory. But it’s the best plan all 
round, for we can afford to give you a clean, good book 
instead of one all jagged and worn ; and as you pay 
your money, you feel you can look as long as you like, 
and come when you please.” 

“ It is a very good plan,” said Lawrence, closing the 
book, “but the name I want is not here.” 

“ Perhaps it is in last year’s directory,” said the man, 
producing another volume from under the counter. 

“ That wouldn’t do me much good,” said Lawrence. 
“ I want to know where some one resides this year.” 

“It will do a great deal of good,” said the other, 
“for if we know where a person has lived, inquiries 
can be made there as to where he has gone. Some- 
times we go back three or four years, and when we 
have once found a man’s name, we follow him up from 
place to place until we can give the inquirer his pres- 

17 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

ent address. What is the name you wanted, sir! 
You were looking in the K’s.” 

“ Keswick,” said Lawrence, “ Junius Keswick.” 

The man ran his finger and his eyes down a column, 
and remarked : “ There is Keswick, but it is Peter, 
laborer ; I suppose that isn’t the party.” 

Lawrence smiled, and shook his head. 

“ We will take the year before that,” said the man, 
with cheerful alacrity, heaving up another volume. 
“Here’s two Keswicks,” he said in a moment, “one 
John, and the other Stephen W. Neither of them 
right?” 

“ No,” said Lawrence $ “ my man is Junius ; and we 
need not go any farther back. I am afraid the person 
I am looking for was only a sojourner in the city, and 
that his name did not get into the directory. I know 
that he was here year before last.” 

“All right, sir,” said the other, pushing aside the 
volume he had been consulting. “ We’ll find the man 
for you from the hotel books, and what is more, we 
can see those two Keswicks that I found last. Per- 
haps they were relations of his, and he was staying 
with them. If you put the matter in our hands, we’ll 
give you the address to-morrow night, provided it’s 
an ordinary case. But if he has gone to Australia or 
Japan, of course it’ll take longer. Is it crime or 
relationship ? ” 

“ Neither,” replied Lawrence. 

“ It is generally one of them,” said the man, “ and if 
it’s crime we carry it on to a certain point, and then 
put it into the hands of the detectives, for we’ve 
nothing to do with police business, private or other- 
wise. But if it’s relationship, we’ll go right through 
18 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


with it to the end. Any kind of information you may 
want we’ll give you here ; scientific, biographical, busi- 
ness, healthfulness of localities, genuineness of an- 
tiquities, age and standing of individuals, purity of 
liquors or teas from sample, Bible items localized, 
china verified ; in fact, anything you want to know we 
can tell you. Of course we don’t pretend that we 
know all these things, but we know the people who do 
know, or who can find them out. By coming to us, 
and paying a small sum, the most valuable informa- 
tion, which it would take you years to find out, can 
be secured with certainty, and generally in a few days. 
We know what to do, and where to go, and that’s 
the point. If it’s a new bug or a microscope insect, we 
put it into the hands of a man who knows just what 
high scientific authority to apply to ; if it’s the middle 
name of your next-door neighbor we’ll give it to you 
from his baptismal record. I’m getting up a pamphlet- 
circular which will be ready in about a week, and 
which will fully explain our methods of business, with 
the charges for the different items, etc.” 

“ Well,” said Lawrence, taking out his pocket-book, 
“ I want the address of Junius Keswick, and I think I 
will let you look it up for me. What is your charge ? ” 

“ It will be two dollars,” said the man, 11 ordinary ; 
and if we find inquiries run into other countries we 
will make special terms. And then there’s seven 
cents, one for your look, and two threes for ours. You 
shall hear from us to-morrow night at your hotel or 
residence, unless you prefer to call here.” 

“ I will call the day after to-morrow,” said Lawrence, 
producing a five-dollar note. 

“Very good,” replied the proprietor. “Will you 
19 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


please pay the cashier? ” pointing at the same time to 
a desk behind Lawrence which the latter had not 
noticed. 

Approaching this desk, the top of which, except for 
a small space in front, was surrounded by short cur- 
tains, he saw a young girl busily engaged in reading a 
book. He proffered her the note, the proprietor at 
the same time calling out : “ Two, seven . 77 

The girl turned the book down to keep the place ; 
then she took the note, and opened a small drawer, in 
which she fumbled for some moments. Closing the 
drawer, she rose to her feet and waved the note over 
the curtain to her right. 

“Haven’t any change, eh?” said the man, coming 
from behind the counter, and putting on his hat. “ As 
the boy’s not here, I’ll step out and get it.” 

The girl turned up her book, and began to read 
again, and Lawrence stood and looked at her, won- 
dering what need there was of a cashier in a place like 
this. She appeared to be under twenty, rather thin- 
faced, and was plainly dressed. In a few moments she 
raised her eyes from her book, and said : “Won’t you 
sit down, sir? I am sorry you have to wait, but we 
are short of change to-day, and sometimes it is hard 
to get it in this neighborhood.” 

Lawrence declined to be seated, but was very willing 
to talk. “Was it the proprietor of this establish- 
ment,” he asked, “who went out to get the money 
changed? ” 

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “That is Mr. Candy.” 

“ A queer name,” said Lawrence, smiling. 

The girl looked up at him, and smiled in return. 
There was a very perceptible twinkle in her eyes, 
20 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


which seemed to be eyes that would like to be merry 
ones, and a slight movement of the corners of her 
month which indicated a desire to say something in 
reply, but, restrained probably by loyalty to her 
employer, or by prudent discretion regarding con- 
versation with strangers, she was silent. 

Lawrence, however, continued his remarks. “ The * 
whole business seems to me very odd. Suppose I were 
to come here and ask for information as to where I 
could get a five-dollar note changed ; would Mr. Candy 
be able to tell me ? ” 

“ He would do in that case just as he does in all 
others,” she said ; “ first, he would go and find out, 
and then he would let you know. Giving information 
is only half the business ; finding things out is the other 
half. That’s what he’s doing now.” 

“So, when he comes back,” said Lawrence, “he’ll 
have a new bit of information to add to his stock on 
hand, which must be a very peculiar one, I fancy.” 

The cashier smiled. “Yes,” she said, “and a very 
useful one, too, if people only knew it.” 

“Don’t they know it?” asked Lawrence. “Don’t 
you have plenty of custom ? ” 

At this moment the door opened, Mr. Candy en- 
tered, and the conversation stopped. 

“ Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” said the proprietor, 
passing some money to the cashier over the curtain, 
who thereupon handed two dollars and ninety-three 
cents to Lawrence through the little opening in front. 

“ If you call the day after to-morrow, the informa- 
tion will be ready for you,” said Mr. Candy, as the 
gentleman departed. 

On the appointed day, Lawrence came again, and 
21 



THE LATE MRS. NULL 


found nobody in the place but the cashier, who handed 
him a note. 

“ Mr. Candy left this for you, in case he should not 
be in when you called / 7 she said. 

The note stated that the search for the address of 
Junius Keswick had opened very encouragingly, but 
as it was quite evident that said person was not now 
in the city, the investigations would have to be car- 
ried on on a more extended scale, and a deposit of 
three dollars would be necessary to meet expenses. 

Lawrence looked from the note to the cashier, who 
had been watching him as he read. “ Does Mr. Candy 
want me to leave three dollars with you ? 77 he asked. 

“ That 7 s what he said, sir . 77 

“ Well , 77 said Lawrence, “I don’t care about paying 
for unlimited investigation in this way. If the gentle- 
man I am in search of has left the city, and Mr. Candy 
has been able to find out to what place he went, he 
should have told me that, and I would have decided 
whether or not I wanted him to do anything more . 77 

The face of the cashier appeared troubled. “ I 
think, sir , 77 she said, “that if you leave the money, 
Mr. Candy will do all he can to discover what you 
wish to know, and that it will not be very long before 
you have the address of the person you are seeking . 77 

“Do you really think he has any clew ? 77 asked 
Lawrence. 

This question did not seem to please the cashier, 
and she answered gravely, though without any show of 
resentment : “ That is a strange question after I ad- 
vised you to leave the money . 77 

Lawrence had a kind heart, and it reproached him. 
“I beg your pardon , 77 said he. “I will leave the 
22 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


money with you, but 1 desire that Mr. Candy will, in 
his next communication, give me all the information 
he has acquired up to the moment of writing, and then 
I will decide whether it is worth while to go on with 
the matter, or not.” 

He thereupon took out his pocket-book and handed 
three dollars to the cashier, who, with an air of delib- 
erate thoughtfulness, smoothed out the two notes, and 
placed them in her drawer. Then she said : “ If you 
will leave your address, sir, I will see that you receive 
your information as soon as possible. That will be 
better than for you to call, because I can’t tell you 
when to come.” 

“Very well,” said Lawrence, “ and I will be obliged 
to you if you will hurry up Mr. Candy as much as you 
can.” And, handing her his card, he went his way. 

The way of Lawrence Croft was generally a very 
pleasant one, for the fortunate conditions of his life 
made it possible for him to go around most of the 
rough places which might lie in it. His family was 
an old one, and a good one, but there was very little 
of it left, and of its scattered remnants he was the most 
important member. But although circumstances did 
not force him to do anything in particular, he liked 
to believe that he was a rigid master to himself, and 
whatever he did was always done with a purpose. 
When he travelled he had an object in view ; when 
he stayed at home the case was the same. 

His present purpose was the most serious one of his 
life : he wished to marry ; and, if she should prove to 
be the proper person, he wished to marry Roberta 
March ; and, as a preliminary step in the carrying out 
of his purpose, he wanted very much to know what 
23 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

sort of man Miss March had once been willing to 
marry. 

When five days had elapsed without his hearing 
from Mr. Candy, he became impatient and betook 
himself to the green door with the tin sign. Entering, 
he found only the boy and the cashier. Addressing 
himself to the latter, he asked if anything had been 
done in his business. 

“ Yes, sir, 77 she said, “ and I hoped Mr. Candy would 
write you a letter this morning before he went out, 
but he didn’t. He traced the gentleman to Niagara 
Falls, and I think you’ll hear something very soon.” 

“ If inquiries have to be carried on outside of the 
city,” said Lawrence, “ they will probably cost a good 
deal, and come to nothing. I think I will drop the 
matter as far as Mr. Candy is concerned.” 

“ I wish you would give us a little more time,” said 
the girl. “I am sure you will hear something in a 
few days, and you need not be afraid there will be any- 
thing more to pay unless you are satisfied that you 
have received the full worth of the money.” 

Lawrence reflected for a few moments, and then 
concluded to let the matter go on. “ Tell Mr. Candy 
to keep me frequently informed of the progress of the 
affair,” said he, “and if he is really of any service to 
me I am willing to pay him, but not otherwise.” 

“ That will be all right,” said the cashier, “ and if 
Mr. Candy is— is prevented from doing it, I’ll write 
to you myself, and keep you posted.” 

As soon as the customer had gone, the boy, who had 
been sitting on the counter, thus spoke to the cashier : 
“You know very well that old Mintstick has given that 
thing up ! ” 


24 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ I know lie has,” said the girl, “ but I have not.” 

“ Yon haven’t anything to do with it,” said the boy. 

“ Yes, I have,” she answered. “ I advised that gen- 
tleman to pay his money, and I’m not going to see 
him cheated out of it. Of course, Mr. Candy doesn’t 
mean to cheat him, but he has gone into that business 
about the origin of the tame blackberry, and there’s 
no knowing when he’ll get back to this thing, which 
is not in his line, anyway.” 

u I should say it wasn’t ! ” exclaimed the boy, with a 
loud laugh. “ Sendin’ me to look up them two Kes- 
wicks, who was both put down as cordwainers in year 
before last’s directory, and askin’ ’em if there was any 
Juniuses in their families.” 

“ Junius Keswick, did you say? Is that the name 
of the gentleman Mr. Candy was looking for ? ” 

“Yes,” said the boy. 

Presently the cashier remarked : “ I am going to look 
at the books.” And she betook herself to the desk at 
the back part of the shop. 

In about half an hour she returned and handed to 
the boy a memorandum upon a scrap of paper. “ You 
go out now to your lunch,” she said, “ and while you 
are out, stop at the St. Winifred Hotel, where Mr. 
Candy found the name of Junius Keswick, and see if 
it is not down again not long after the date which I 
have put on this slip of paper. I think if a person 
went to Niagara Falls he’d be just as likely to make a 
little trip of it and come back again as to keep travel- 
ling on, which Mr. Candy supposes he did. If you 
find the name again, put down the date of arrival on 
this, and see if there was any memorandum about for- 
warding letters.” 


25 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ All right / 7 said the boy. “ But Til be gone an hour 
and a half. Can’t cut into my lunch-time.” 

In the course of a few days Lawrence Croft received 
a note signed Candy & Co. “per” some illegible ini- 
tials, which stated that Mr. Junius Keswick had been 
traced to a boarding-house in the city, but as the estab- 
lishment had been broken up for some time, endeavors 
were now being made to find the lady who had kept 
the house, and when this was done it would most likely 
be possible to discover from her where Mr. Keswick 
had gone. 

Lawrence waited a few days and then called at the 
Information Shop. Again was Mr. Candy absent ; and 
so was the boy. The cashier informed him that she 
had found,— that is, that the lady who kept the board- 
ing-house had been found,— and she thought she re- 
membered the gentleman in question, and promised, 
as soon as she could, to look through a book in which 
she used to keep directions for the forwarding of letters, 
and in this way another clew might soon be expected. 

“ This seems to be going on better,” said Lawrence, 
“but Mr. Candy doesn’t show much in the affair. 
Who is managing it ? You ? ” 

The girl blushed and then laughed, a little con- 
fusedly. “ I am only the cashier,” she said. 

“ And the laborious duties of your position would, of 
course, give you no time for anything else,” remarked 
Lawrence. 

“ Oh, well,” said the girl, “ of course it is easy enough 
for any one to see that I haven’t much to do as cashier, 
but the boy and Mr. Candy are nearly always out, 
looking up things, and I have to do other business 
besides attending to cash.” 


26 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ If you are attending to my business,” said Law- 
rence, “I am very glad, especially now that it has 
reached the boarding-house stage, where I think a 
woman will be better able to work than a man. Are 
you doing this entirely independent of Mr. Candy ? ” 

“ Well, sir,” said the cashier, with an honest, straight- 
forward look from her gray eyes that pleased Law- 
rence, “ I may as well confess that I am. But there’s 
nothing mean about it. He has all the same as given it 
up, for he’s waiting to hear from a man in Niagara, who 
will never write to him, and probably hasn’t anything 
to write, and as I advised you to pay the money I feel 
bound in honor to see that the business is done, if it 
can be done.” 

u Have you a brother or a husband to help you in 
these investigations and searches f ” asked Lawrence. 

11 No,” said the cashier, with a smile. u Sometimes I 
send our boy, and as to boarding-houses, I can go to 
them myself after we shut up here.” 

“ I wish,” said Lawrence, u that you were married, 
and that you had a husband who would not interfere 
in this matter at all, but who would go about with 
you, and so enable you to follow up your clew thor- 
oughly. You take up the business in the right spirit, 
and I believe you would succeed in finding Mr. Kes- 
wick, but I don’t like the idea of sending you about 
by yourself.” 

“ I won’t deny,” said the cashier, u that since I have 
begun this affair I would like very much to carry it 
out ; so, if you don’t object, I won’t give it up just yet, 
and as soon as anything happens I’ll let you know.” 


27 


CHAPTER III 


Autumn in Virginia, especially if one is not too near 
the mountains, is a season in which greenness sails very 
close to Christmas, although generally veering away in 
time to prevent its verdant hues from tingeing that 
happy day with the gloomy influence of the prophetic 
proverb about churchyards. Long after the time 
when the people of the regions watered by the Hudson 
and the Merrimac are beginning to button up their 
overcoats, and to think of weather-strips for their 
window-sashes, the dwellers in the land through which 
flow the Appomattox and the James may sit upon 
their broad piazzas, and watch the growing glories of 
the forests, where the crimson stars of the sweet-gum 
blaze among the rich yellows of the chestnuts, the 
lingering green of the oaks, and the enduring verdure 
of the pines. The insects still hum in the sunny air, 
and the sun is now a genial orb whose warm rays 
cheer but not excoriate. 

The orb just mentioned was approaching the hori- 
zon, when, in an adjoining county to that in which 
was situated the hospitable mansion of Midbranch, a 
little negro boy about ten years old was driving some 
cows through a gateway that opened on a public road. 
The cows, as they were going homeward, filed willingly 
28 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


through the gateway, which led into a field, at the far 
end of which might be dimly discerned a house behind 
a mass of foliage ; but the boy, whose head and voice 
were entirely too big for the rest of him, assailed them 
with all manner of reproaches and impellent adjectives, 
addressing each cow in turn as : “ You, sah ! ” When 
the compliant beasts had hustled through, the young- 
ster got upon the gate, and giving it a push with one 
bare foot, he swung upon it as far as it would go ; then 
lifting the end from the surface of the ground he shut 
it with a bang, fastened it with a hook, and ran after 
the cows, his wild provocatives to bovine haste ringing 
high into the evening air. 

This youth was known as Plez, his whole name being 
Pleasant Valley, an inspiration to his mother from the 
label on a grape-box, which had drifted into that re- 
gion from the North. He had just stooped to pick up 
a clod of earth with which to accentuate his vocifera- 
tions, when, on rising, he was astounded by the appari- 
tion of an elderly woman wearing a purple sunbonnet, 
and carrying a furled umbrella of the same color. 
Behind the spectacles, which were fixed upon him, 
blazed a pair of fiery eyes, and the soul of Plez shriv- 
elled and curled up within him. His downcast eyes 
were bent upon his upturned toes, the clod dropped 
from his limp fingers, and his mouth, which had been 
opened for a yell, remained open, but the yell had 
apparently swooned. 

The words of the old lady were brief, but her um- 
brella was full of jerky menace, and when she left him, 
and passed on towards the outer gate, Plez followed 
the cows to the house with the meekness of a sus- 
pected sheep-dog. 


29 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


The cows had been milked, some by a rotund black 
woman named Letty, and some, much to their dis- 
comfort, by Plez himself, and it was beginning to grow 
dark, when an open spring-wagon driven by a colored 
man, and with a white man on the back seat, came 
along the road, and stopped at the gate. The driver, 
having passed the reins to the occupant on the back 
seat, got down, opened the gate, and stood holding it 
while the other drove the horse into the road which 
ran by the side of the field to the house behind the 
trees. At this time a passer-by, if there had been one, 
might have observed, partly protruding from behind 
some bushes on the other side of the public road, and 
at a little distance from the gate, the lower portion of 
a purple umbrella. As the spring-wagon approached, 
and during the time that it was turning into the gate, 
and while it was waiting for the driver to resume his 
seat, this umbrella was considerably agitated, so much 
so indeed as to cause a little rustling among the leaves. 
When the gate had been shut, and the wagon had 
passed on towards the house, the end of the umbrella 
disappeared, and then, on the other side of the bush, 
there came into view a sunbonnet of the same color 
as the umbrella. This surmounted the form of an old 
lady, who stepped into the pathway by the side of the 
road, and walked away with a quick, active step which 
betokened both energy and purpose. 

The house, before which, not many minutes later, 
this spring-wagon stopped, was not a fine old family 
mansion like that of Midbranch, but it was a comfort- 
able dwelling, though an unpretending one. The gen- 
tleman on the back seat, and the driver, who was an 
elderly negro, both turned toward the hall door, which 
30 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


was open and lighted by a lamp within, as if they 
expected some one to come out on the porch. But 
nobody came, and, after a moment’s hesitation, the 
gentleman got down, and taking a valise from the 
back of the wagon, mounted the steps of the porch. 
While he was doing this the face of the negro man, 
which could be plainly seen in the light from the hall 
door, grew anxious and troubled. When the gentle- 
man set his valise on the porch, and stood by it with- 
out making any attempt to enter, the old man put 
down the reins, and quickly descending from his seat, 
hurried up the steps. 

“ Dunno whar ole miss is, but I reckon she done 
gone to look after de tukkies. She dreffle keerful dat 
dey all go to roos’ ebery night. Walk right in, Mahs’ 
Junius.” And, taking up the valise, he followed the 
gentleman into the hall. 

There, near the back door, stood the rotund black 
woman, and, behind her, Plez. “ Look h’yar, Letty,” 
said the negro man, “whar ole miss?” 

“Dunno,” said the woman. “She done gib out 
supper, an’ I ain’t seed her sence. Is dis Mahs’ Ju- 
nius? Reckon you don’ ’member Letty? ” 

« Yes, I do,” said the gentleman, shaking hands with 
her ; « but the Letty I remember was a rather slim 
young woman.” 

“Dat’s so,” said Letty, with a respectful laugh, 
“ but, shuh ’nuf, my food’s been blessed to me, Mahs’ 
Junius.” 

“But whar’s ole miss?” persisted the old man. 
“You, Letty, can’t you go look her up? ” 

Now was heard the voice of Plez, who meekly 
emerged from the shade of Letty. “ Ole miss done 
31 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


gone out to de road gate/’ said he. “ I seen her when 
I brung de cows.” 

“Bress my soul!” ejaculated Letty. “Out to de 
road gate ! An’ ’spectin’ you too, Mahs’ Junius ! ” 

“Didn’t she say nufi&n to you?” said the old man, 
addressing Plez. 

“She didn’t say nuffin to me, TJncle Isham,” an- 
swered the boy, “ ’cept if I didn’t quit skeerin’ dem 
cows, an’ makin’ ’em run wid froin’ rocks till dey ain’t 
got a drip drap o’ milk lef in ’em, she’d whang me 
ober de head wid her umbril.” 

“ ’Tain’t easy to tell whar she done gone from dat,” 
said Letty. 

The face of Uncle Isham grew more troubled. 
“Walk in de parlor, Mahs’ Junius,” he said, “an’ 
make yo’se’f comfble. Ole miss boun’ to be back 
d’reckly. I’ll go put up de hoss.” 

As the old man went heavily down the porch steps 
he muttered to himself : “ I was feared o’ sumfin like 
dis ; I done feel it in my bones.” 

The gentleman took a seat in the parlor where Letty 
had preceded him with a lamp. “Reckon ole miss 
didn’t ’spec’ you quite so soon, Mahs’ Junius, cos de 
sorrel hoss is pow’ful slow, an’ Uncle Isham is mighty 
keerful ob rocks in de road. Reckon she’s done gone 
ober to see ole Aun’ Patsy, who’s gwine to die in two 
or free days, to take her some red an’ yaller pieces fur 
a crazy-quilt. I know she’s got some pieces fur her.” 

“Aunt Patsy alive yet?” exclaimed Master Junius. 
“ But if she’s about to die, what does she want with a 
crazy-quilt?” 

“ Dat’s fur she shroud,” said Letty. “ She ’tends to 
go to glory all wrap’ up in a crazy-quilt, jus’ chock-full 
32 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


ob all de colors ob de rainbow. Aun’ Patsy neber 
did 7 tend to have a sbroud o’ bleached domestic like 
common folks. She wants to cut a shine ’mong de 
angels, an’ her quilt’s ’most done, jus’ one corner ob it 
lef’. Reckon ole miss done gone to carry her de pieces 
fur dat corner. Dere ain’t much time lef, fur Aun’ 
Patsy is pretty nigh dead now. She’s ober two hun- 
nerd years ole.” 

u What ! ” exclaimed Master Junius, “ two hun- 
dred?” 

“Yes, sah,” answered Letty. “Doctor Peter’s ole 
Jim was more’n a hunnerd when he died, an’ we-all 
knows Aun’ Patsy is twice as ole as ole Jim.” 

“ I’ll wait here,” said Master Junius, taking up a 
book. “ I suppose she will be back before long.” 

In about half an hour Uncle Isham came into the 
kitchen, his appearance indicating that he had had a 
hurried walk, and told Letty that she had better give 
Master Junius his supper without waiting any longer 
for her mistress. “ She ain’t at Aun’ Patsy’s,” said the 
old man, “an’ she’s jus’ done gone somewhar else, an’ 
she’ll come back when she’s a mind to, an’ dar ain’t 
nuffin else to say ’bout it.” 

Supper was eaten ; a pipe was smoked on the porch ; 
and Master Junius went to bed in a room which had 
been carefully prepared for him under the supervision 
of the mistress ; but the purple sunbonnet and the 
umbrella of the same color did not return to the house 
that night. 

Master Junius was a quiet man, and fond of walking ; 
and the next day he devoted to long rambles, some- 
times on the roads, sometimes over the fields, and 
sometimes through the woods ; but in none of his walks, 
33 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


nor when he came back to dinner and supper, did he 
meet the elderly mistress of the house to which he had 
come. That evening, as he sat on the top step of the 
porch with his pipe, he summoned to him Uncle Isham, 
and thus addressed the old man : 

“ I think it is impossible, Isham, that your mistress 
started out to meet me, and that an accident happened 
to her. I have walked all over this neighborhood, and 
I know that no accident could have occurred without 
my seeing or hearing something of it.” 

Uncle Isham stood on the ground, his feet close to 
the bottom step ; his hat was in his hand, and his up- 
turned face wore an expression of earnestness which 
seemed to set uncomfortably upon it. u Mahs’ Junius,” 
said he, u dar ain’t no acciden’ come to ole miss $ she’s 
done gone cos she wanted to, an’ she ain’t come back 
cos she didn’t want to. Dat’s ole miss, right fru.” 

“ I suppose,” said the young man , 11 that as she went 
away on foot she must be staying with some of the 
neighbors. If we were to make inquiries, it certainly 
would not be difficult to find out where she is.” 

u Mahs’ Junius,” said Uncle Isham, his black eyes 
shining brighter and brighter as he spoke, “ dar’s 
cullud people, an’ white folks too, in dis yere county 
who’d put on der bes’ clothes an’ black der shoes, an’ 
skip off wid alacrousness, to do de wus kin’ o’ sin, dat 
dey knowed fur sartin would send ’em down to de 
deepes’ an’ hottes’ gullies ob de lower regions, but 
nuffin in dis worl’ could make one o’ dem people go 
’quirin’ ’bout ole miss when she didn’t want to be 
’quired about.” 

The smoker put down his pipe on the top step beside 
him, and sat for a few moments in thought. Then he 
34 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

spoke. “ Isham,” lie began, “ I want you to tell me if 
you have any notion or idea— ” 

u Malls’ Junius,” exclaimed the old negro, “ ’sense me 
fur int’ruptin’, but I can’t help it. Don’ you go an’ 
ax an ole man like me if I t’inks dat ole miss went away 
cos you was cornin’ an’ if it’s my true b’lief dat she’ll 
neber come back while you is h’yar. Don’ ask me 
nuffin like dat, Mahs’ Junius. I’se libed in dis place 
all my bawn days, an’ I ain’t neber done nuffin to you, 
Mahs’ Junius, ’cept keepin’ you from breakin’ yo’ 
neck when yo’ was too little to know better. I neber 
’jected to yo’ marryin’ any lady yo’ like bes’, an’ 
’tain’t fa’r, Mahs’ Junius, now I’se ole an’ gittin’ on de 
careen, fur you to ax me wot I t’inks about ole miss 
gwine away an’ cornin’ back. I begs you, Mahs’ 
Junius, don’ ax me dat.” 

Master Junius rose to his feet. “ All right, Isham,” 
he said ; “ I shall not worry your good old heart with 
questions.” And he went into the house. 

The next day this quiet gentleman and good walker 
went to see old Aunt Patsy, who had apparently con- 
sented to live a day or two longer ; gave her a little 
money in lieu of pieces for her crazy-bedquilt ; and 
told her he was going away to stay. He told Uncle 
Isham he was going away to stay away ; and he said 
the same thing to Letty, and to Plez, and to two 
colored women of the neighborhood whom he hap- 
pened to see. Then he took his valise, which was not 
a very large one, and departed. He refused to be 
conveyed to the distant station in the spring- wagon, 
saying that he much preferred to walk. Uncle Isham 
took leave of him with much sadness, but did not ask 
him to stay; and Letty and Plez looked after him 
35 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


wistfully, still holding in their hands the coins he had 
placed there. With the exception of these coins, the 
only thing he left behind him was a sealed letter on 
the parlor table, addressed to the mistress of the house. 

Toward the end of that afternoon, two women came 
along the public road which passed the outer gate. 
One came from the south, and rode in an open car- 
riage, evidently hired at the railroad-station ; the 
other was on foot, and came from the north ; she wore 
a purple sunbonnet, and carried an umbrella of the 
same color. When this latter individual caught sight 
of the approaching carriage, then at some distance, she 
stopped short and gazed at it. She did not retire 
behind a bush, as she had done on a former occasion, 
but she stood in the shade of a tree on the side of the 
road, and waited. As the carriage came nearer to the 
gate the surprise upon her face became rapidly mingled 
with indignation. The driver had checked the speed 
of his horses, and, without doubt, intended to stop at 
the gate. This might not have been sufficient to excite 
her emotions, but she now saw clearly, having not been 
quite certain of it before, that the occupant of the 
carriage was a lady, and, apparently, a young one, for 
she wore in her hat some bright-colored flowers. The 
driver stopped, got down, opened the gate, and then, 
mounting to his seat, drove through, leaving the gate 
standing wide open. 

This contempt of ordinary proprietary requirements 
made the old lady spring out from the shelter of the 
shade. Brandishing her umbrella, she was about to 
cry out to the man to stop and shut the gate, but she 
restrained herself. The distance was too great, and, 
besides, she thought better of it. She went again into 
36 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


the shade, and waited. In about ten minutes the car- 
riage came back, but without the lady. This time 
the driver got down, shut the gate after him, and drove 
rapidly away. 

If blazing eyes could crack glass, the spectacles of 
the old lady would have been splintered into many 
pieces as she stood by the roadside, the end of her um- 
brella jabbed an inch or two into the ground. After 
standing thus for some five minutes, she suddenly 
turned and walked vigorously away in the direction 
from which she had come. 

Uncle Isham, Letty, and the boy Plez were very 
much surprised at the arrival of the lady in the car- 
riage. She had asked for the mistress of the house, 
and on being assured that she was expected to return 
very soon, had alighted, paid and dismissed her driver, 
and had taken a seat in the parlor. Her valise, rather 
larger than that of the previous visitor, was brought 
in and put in the hall. She waited for an hour or 
two, during which time Letty made several attempts 
to account for the non-appearance of her mistress, who, 
she said, was away on a visit, but was expected back 
every minute ; and when supper was ready she par- 
took of that meal alone, and after a short evening 
spent in reading she went to bed in the chamber which 
Letty prepared for her. 

Before she retired, Letty, who had shown herself a 
very capable attendant, said to her: “Wot’s your 
name, miss ? I alius likes to know the names o’ ladies 
I waits on.” 

“ My name,” said the lady, u is Mrs. Hull.” 


37 


CHAPTEK IV 


The autumn sun was shining very pleasantly when, 
about nine o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Null came out 
on the porch, and, standing at the top of the steps, 
looked about her. She had on her hat with the red 
flowers, and she wore a short jacket, into the pockets 
of which her hands were thrust with an air which 
indicated satisfaction with the circumstances sur- 
rounding her. The old dog, lying on the grass at the 
bottom of the steps, looked up at her and flopped his 
tail upon the ground. Mrs. Null called to him in a 
cheerful tone, and the dog arose and, hesitatingly, put 
his fore feet on the bottom step ; then, when she held 
out her hand and spoke to him again, he determined 
that, come what might, he would go up those forbidden 
steps and let her pat his head. This he did, and after 
looking about him to assure himself that this was 
reality and not a dog-dream, he lay down upon the 
door-mat, and, with a sigh of relief, composed himself 
to sleep. A black turkey-gobbler, who looked as if he 
had been charred in a fire, followed by five turkey- 
hens, also suggesting the idea that water had been 
thrown over them before anything but their surfaces 
had been burnt, came timidly around the house and 
stopped before venturing upon the greensward in front 
38 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of the porch ; then, seeing nobody bnt Mrs. Null, they 
advanced with bobbing heads and swaying bodies to 
look into the resources of this seldom-explored region. 
Plez, who was coming from the spring with a pail of 
water on his head, saw the dog on the porch and the 
turkeys on the grass, and stopped to regard the spec- 
tacle. He looked at them, and he looked at Mrs. 
Null, and a grin of amused interest spread itself over 
his face. 

Mrs. Null went down the steps and approached the 
boy. 11 Plez,” said she, “ if your mistress, or anybody, 
should come here this morning, you must run over to 
Pine Top Hill and call me. I’m going there to read.” 

“ Don’ you want me to go wid you, an’ show you de 
way, Miss Null?” asked Plez, preparing to set down 
his pail. 

u Oh, no,” said she ; 11 1 know the way.” And with 
her hands still in her pockets, from one of which pro- 
truded a rolled-up novel, she walked down to the 
little stream which ran from the spring, crossed the 
plank, and took the path which led by the side of 
the vineyard to Pine Top Hill. 

This lady visitor had now been here two days wait- 
ing for the return of the m stress of the little estate ; 
and the sojourn had evidently been of benefit to her. 
Good air, the good meals with which Letty had pro- 
vided her, and a sort of sympathy which had sprung 
up in a very sudden way between her and everything 
on the place, had given brightness to her eyes. She 
even looked a little plumper than when she came, and 
certainly very pretty. She climbed Pine Top Hill 
without making any mistake as to the best path, and 
went directly to a low piece of sun-warmed rock which 
39 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


cropped out from the ground not far from the bases of 
the cluster of pines which gave the name to the hill. 
An extended and very pretty view could be had from 
this spot, and Mrs. Null seemed to enjoy it, looking 
about her with quick turns of the head as if she 
wanted to satisfy herself that all of the scenery was 
there. Apparently satisfied that it was, she stretched 
out her feet, withdrew her gaze from the surrounding 
country, and regarded the toes of her boots. Now she 
smiled a little and began to speak. 

u Freddy,” said she, “ I must think over matters, -and 
have a talk with you about them. Nothing could be 
more proper than this, since we are on our wedding- 
tour. You keep beautifully in the background, which 
is very nice of you, for that’s what I married you for. 
But we must have a talk now, for we haven’t said a 
word to each other, nor, perhaps, thought of each 
other, during the whole three nights and two days that 
we have been here. I expect these people think it 
very queer that I should keep on waiting for their 
mistress to come back, but I can’t help it ; I must stay 
till she comes, or he comes, and they must continue to 
think it funny. And as for Mr. Croft, I suppose I 
should get a letter from him if he knew where to 
write, but you know, Freddy, we are travelling about 
on this wedding-tour without letting anybody, espe- 
cially Mr. Croft, know exactly where we are. He 
must think it an awfully wonderful piece of good luck 
that a young married couple should happen to be 
journeying in the very direction taken by a gentleman 
whom he wants to find, and that they are willing to 
look for the gentleman without charging anything but 
the extra expenses to which they may be put. We 
40 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


wouldn’t charge him a cent, you know, Freddy Null, 
but for the fear that he would think we would not 
truly act as his agents if we were not paid, and so 
would employ somebody else. We don’t want him to 
employ anybody else. We want to find Junius Kes- 
wick before he does, and then maybe we won’t want 
Mr. Croft to find him at all. But I hope it will not 
turn out that way. He said it was neither crime nor 
relationship, and, of course, it couldn’t be. What I 
hope is that it is good fortune ; but that’s doubtful. 
At any rate, I must see Junius first, if I can possibly 
manage it. If she would only come back and open her 
letter, there might be no more trouble about it, for I 
don’t believe he would go away without leaving her 
his address. Isn’t all this charming, Freddy? And 
don’t you feel glad that we came here for our wedding- 
tour? Of course you don’t enjoy it as much as I do, 
for it can’t seem so natural to you ; but you are bound 
to like it. The very fact of my being here should 
make the place delightful in your eyes, Mr. Null, even 
if I have forgotten all about you ever since I came.” 

That afternoon, as Mrs. Null was occupying some of 
her continuous leisure in feeding the turkeys at the 
back of the house, she noticed two colored men in 
earnest conversation with Isham. When they had 
gone she called to the old man. “ Uncle Isham,” she 
said, “ what did those men want? ” 

“ Tell you what ’tis, Miss Null,” said Isham, remov- 
ing his shapeless felt hat, “ dis yere place is gittin’ wus 
an’ wus on de careen, an’ wot’s gwine to happen if ole 
miss don’ come back is more’n I kin tell. Dar’s no 
groun’ ploughed yit for wheat, an’ dem two han’s been 
’gaged to come do it, an’ dey put it off, an’ put it off, 
41 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


till ole miss got as mad as hot coals, an’ now at las’ 
dey’ve come, an’ she’s not h’yar, an’ nuffin can be 
done. De wheat’ll be free inches high on ebery Oder 
farm ’fore ole miss git dem plough-han’s ag’in.” 

“ That is too bad, Uncle Isham,” said Mrs. Null. 
“ When land that ought to be ploughed isn’t ploughed, 
it all grows up in old-field pines, don’t it? ” 

“ It don’ do dat straight off, Miss Null,” said the old 
negro, his gray face relaxing into a smile. 

“No, I suppose not,” said she. “ I have heard that 
it takes thirty years for a whole forest of old-field 
pines to grow up. But they will do it if the land isn’t 
ploughed. Now, Uncle Isham, I don’t intend to let 
everything be at a standstill here just because your 
mistress is away. That is one reason why I feed the 
turkeys. If they died, or the farm all went wrong, I 
should feel that it was partly my fault.” 

“ Yaas’m,” said Uncle Isham, passing his hat from 
one hand to the other, as he delivered himself a little 
hesitatingly,— “ yaas’m ; if you wasn’t h’yar p’r’aps ole 
miss mought come back.” 

“Now, Uncle Isham,” said Mrs. Null, “you mustn’t 
think your mistress is staying away on account of me. 
She left home, as Letty has told me over and over, 
because your Master Junius came. Of course she 
thinks he’s here yet, and she don’t know anything 
about me. But if her affairs should go to rack and ruin 
while I am here and able to prevent it, I should think 
it was my fault. That’s what I mean, Uncle Isham. 
And now this is what I want you to do. I want you 
to go right after those men, and tell them to come 
here as soon as they can, and begin to plough. Do 
you know where the ploughing is to be done ? ” 

42 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Oh, yaas’m , 77 said Uncle Isham; “dar ain’t on’y 
one place fur dat. It 7 s de clober-fiel 7 , ober dar on de 
Oder side ob de gyarden . 77 

“ And what is to be planted in it ? 77 asked Mrs. Null. 

“ Ob course dey 7 s gwine to plough fur wheat , 77 an- 
swered Uncle Isham, a little surprised at the question. 

“ I don 7 t altogether like that , 77 said Mrs. Null, her 
brows slightly contracting. “ I 7 ve read a great deal 
about the foolishness of Southern people planting 
wheat. They can 7 t compete with the great wheat- 
farms of the West, which sometimes cover a whole 
county, and, of course, having so much, they can 
afford to sell it a great deal cheaper than you can 
here. And yet you go on, year after year, paying 
every cent you can rake and scrape for fertilizing 
drugs, and getting about a teacupful of wheat— that 
is, proportionately speaking. I don 7 t think this sort 
of thing should continue, Uncle Isham. It would be 
a great deal better to plough that field for pickles. 
Now there is a steady market for pickles, and, so far 
as I know, there are no pickle-farms in the West . 77 

“ Pickles ! 77 ejaculated the astonished Isham. “ Do 
you mean, Miss Null, to put dat fiel 7 down in ku- 
kumbers at dis time o 7 yeah ? 77 

“ Well , 77 said Mrs. Null, thoughtfully, “ I don’t know 
that I feel authorized to make the change at present, 
but I do know that the things that pay most are small 
fruits, and if you people down here would pay more 
attention to them you would make more money. But 
the land must be ploughed, and then we 7 ll see about 
planting it afterwards ; your mistress will, probably, 
be home in time for that. You go after the men, and 
tell them I shall expect them to begin the first thing 
43 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


in the morning. And if there is anything else to be 
done on the farm, you come and tell me about it to- 
morrow. I’m going to take the responsibility on 
myself to see that matters go on properly until your 
mistress returns.” 

Letty and her son Plez occupied a cabin not far 
from the house, while Uncle Isham lived alone in a 
much smaller tenement, near the barn and chicken- 
house. That evening he went over to Letty’s, taking 
with him, as a burnt-offering, a partially consumed 
and still glowing log of hickory wood from his own 
hearth-stone. “ Jes lemme tell yon dis h’yar, Letty,” 
said he, after making up the fire and seating himself 
on a stool near by : “ ef you want to see ole miss come 
back Parin’ an’ chargin’, jes you let her know dat Miss 
Null is gwine ter plough de clober-fiel’ fur pickles.” 

“ Wot’s dat fool talk?” asked Letty. 

“ Miss Null’s gwine ter boss dis farm, dat’s all,” said 
Isham. 11 She tole me so herse’f ; an’ ef she’s lef alone 
she’s gwine ter do it city fashion. But one thing’s 
sartin shuh, Letty : if ole miss do fin’ out wot’s gwine 
on, she’ll be back h’yar in no time ! She know well 
’nuf dat dat Miss Null ain’t got no right ter come an’ 
boss dis h’yar farm. Who’s she, anyway ? ” 

“ Dunno,” answered Letty. “ I done ax her six or 
seben time, but ’pears like I dunno wot she mean when 
she tell me. P’r’aps she’s one o’ ole miss’ little gal 
babies growed up. I tell you, Uncle Isham, she know 
dis place jes as ef she bawn h’yar.” 

Uncle Isham looked steadily into the fire, and 
rubbed the sides of his head with his big black fingers. 
“ Ole miss nebber had no gal baby ’cept one, an’ dat 
died when ’twas mighty little.” 

44 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Does you reckon she kill her ef she come back an’ 
fin’ her no kin?” asked Letty. 

Uncle Isham pushed his stool back and started to 
his feet with a noise which woke Plez, who had been 
soundly sleeping on the other side of the fireplace ; and 
striding to the door, the old man went out into the 
open air. Returning in less than a minute, he put 
his head into the doorway and addressed the aston- 
ished woman, who had turned around to look after him. 
“ Look h’yar, you Letty, I don’ want to hear no sech 
fool talk ’bout ole miss. You dunno ole miss, nohow. 
You only come h’yar seben year ago, when dat Plez 
was trottin’ roun’ wid nuffin but a little meal-bag fur 
clothes. Mahs’ John had been dead a long time den. 
You nebber knowed Mahs’ John. You nebber was 
woke up at two o’clock in de mawnin’ wid de crack 
ob a pistol, an’ run out ’spectin’ ’twas somebody stealin’ 
chickens an’ Mahs’ John firin’ at ’em, an’ see ole miss 
a-cuttin’ fur de road gate wid her white night-gown a- 
floppin’ in de win’ behind her, an’ when we got out to 
de gate, dar we see Mahs’ John a-stan’in’ up ag’in’ de 
pos’, not de pos’ wid de hinges on, but de pos’ wid de 
hook on, an’ a hole in de top ob de head which he 
made hese’f wid de pistol. One-eyed Jim see de whole 
thing. He war stealin’ cohn in de fiel’ on de Oder 
side de road. He see Mahs’ John come out wid de 
pistol, an’ he lay low. Hot dat it war Mahs’ John’s 
cohn dat he was stealin’, but he knowed well ’nuf dat 
Mahs’ John take jes as much car’ o’ he neighbus’ 
cohn as he own. An’ den he see Mahs’ John stan’ up 
ag’in’ de pos’ an’ shoot de pistol, an’ he see Mahs’ John’s 
soul come right out de hole in de top ob his head an’ 
go straight up to heben like a sky -racket.” 

45 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Wid a whiz!” asked the open-eyed Letty. 

“ Like a sky -rackety I tell yon / 7 continued the old 
man ; “an 7 den me an 7 ole miss come np. She jes tuk 
one look at him, an 7 den she said in a wice, not like 
she own wice, hut like Mahs 7 John 7 s wice, wot had 
done gone forebber : ‘ You Jim, come out o 7 dat cohn 
an 7 help carry him in ! 7 An 7 we free carried him in. 
An 7 you dunno ole miss, nohow, an 7 I don 7 want to 
hear no fool talk from you, Letty, 7 bout her. Jes 
you ’member dat ! 77 

And with this Uncle Isham betook himself to the 
solitude of his own cabin. 

“Well , 77 said Letty to herself, as she rose and ap- 
proached the bed in the corner of the room, “I 7 se 
pow’ful glad dat somebody’s gwine to take de key- 
bahsket, for I nebber goes inter dat sto’-room by 
myse’f widout. tremblin’ all froo my backbone fear ole 
miss come back, an 7 fin 7 me dar ’lone.” 


46 


CHAPTER V 


When Lawrence Croft now took his afternoon walks 
in the city, he was very glad to wear a light overcoat, 
and to button it, too. But, although the air was get- 
ting a little nipping in New York, he knew that it 
must still be balmy and enjoyable in Virginia. He 
had never been down there at this season, but he had 
heard about the Virginia autumns, and besides, he 
had seen a lady who had had a letter from Roberta 
March. In this letter Miss March had written that 
as her father intended making a trip to Texas, and 
therefore would not come to New York as early as 
usual, she would stay at least a month longer with her 
Uncle Brandon ; and she was glad to do it, for the 
weather was perfectly lovely, and she could stay out 
of doors all day if she wanted to. 

Lawrence’s walks, although very invigorating on 
account of the fine, sharp air, were not entirely cheer- 
ing, for they gave him an opportunity to think that 
he was making no progress whatever in his attempt to 
study the character of Junius Keswick. He had in- 
trusted the search for that gentleman’s address to Mr. 
Candy’s cashier, who had informed him, most oppor- 
tunely, that she was about to set out on a wedding- 
tour, and that she had possessed herself of clews of 
47 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


much, value which could be readily followed up in con- 
nection with the projected journey. But a fortnight 
or more had elapsed without his hearing anything 
from her, and he had come to the conclusion that hy- 
meneal joys must have driven all thoughts of business 
out of her little head. 

After hearing that Roberta March intended pro- 
tracting her stay in the country, the desire came to 
him to go down there himself. He would like to have 
the novel experience of that region in autumn, and 
he would like to see Roberta, but he could not help 
acknowledging to himself that the proceeding would 
scarcely be a wise one, especially as he must go with- 
out the desired safeguard of knowing what kind of 
man Miss March had once been willing to accept. He 
felt that if he went down to the neighborhood of Mid- 
branch one of the battles of his life would begin, and 
that when he held up before him his figurative shield, 
he would see in its inner mirror that, on account of 
his own disposition towards the lady, he was in a con- 
dition of great peril. But, for all that, he wanted 
very much to go, and no one will be surprised to learn 
that he did go. 

He was a little embarrassed at first in regard to the 
pretext which he should make to himself for such a 
j ourney. Whatever satisfactory excuse he could make 
to himself in this case would, of course, do for other 
people. Although he was not prone to make excuses 
for his conduct to other people in general, he knew he 
would have to give some reason to Mr. Brandon and 
Miss Roberta for his return to Virginia so soon after 
having left it. He determined to make a visit to the 
mountains of North Carolina, and as Midbranch would 
48 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


lie in his way, of course he would stop there. This he 
assured himself was not a subterfuge. It was a very 
sensible thing to do. He had a good deal of time on 
his hands before the city season, at least for him, 
would begin, and he had read that the autumn was an 
admirable time to visit the country of the French 
Broad. How long a stop he would make at Midbranch 
would be determined by circumstances. He was sorry 
that he would not be able to look upon Miss Roberta 
with the advantage of knowing her former lover, but 
it was something to know that she had had a lover. 
With this fact in his mind he would be able to form 
a better estimate of her than he had formed before. 

The man who lived in the cottage at the Green 
Sulphur Springs was somewhat surprised when Mr. 
Croft arrived there, and desired to make arrangements, 
as before, for board, and the use of a saddle-horse. 
But, although it was not generally conceded, this man 
knew very well that there was no water in the world 
so suitable to remedy the wear and tear of a city life 
as that of the Green Sulphur Springs, and therefore 
nobody could consider the young gentleman foolish for 
coming back again while the season permitted. 

Lawrence arrived at his cottage in the morning $ and 
early in the afternoon of the same day he rode over 
to Midbranch. He found the country a good deal 
changed, and he did not like the changes. His road, 
which ran for much of its distance through the woods, 
was covered with leaves, some green, and some red and 
yellow, and he did not fancy the peculiar smell of 
these leaves, which reminded him, in some way, of 
that gathering together of the characters in old-fash- 
ioned comedies shortly before the fall of the curtain. 

49 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


In many places where there used to be a thick shade 
the foliage was now quite thin, and through it he 
could see a good deal of the sky. The Virginia 
creepers, or poison-oaks, whichever they were, were 
growing red upon the trunks of the trees, as if they 
had been at table too long and showed it, and when 
he rode out of the woods he saw that the fields, which 
he remembered as wide, swelling slopes of green, with 
cattle and colts feeding here and there, were now being 
ploughed into corrugated stretches of monotonous drab 
and brown. If he had been there through all the 
gradual changes of the season, he, probably, would 
have enjoyed them as much as people ordinarily do ; 
but coming back in this way, the altered landscape 
slightly shocked him. 

When he had turned into the Midbranch gate, but 
was still a considerable distance from the house, he 
involuntarily stopped his horse. He could see the 
broad steps which crossed the fence of the lawn, and 
on one side of the platform on the top sat a lady whom 
he instantly recognized as Miss Roberta ; and on the 
other side of the platform sat a gentleman. These two 
occupied very much the same positions as Lawrence 
himself and Miss March had occupied when we first 
became acquainted with them. Lawrence looked very 
sharply and earnestly at the gentleman. Could it be 
Mr. Brandon? Ho, it was a much younger person. 

His first impulse was to turn and ride away, but this 
would be silly and unmanly, and he continued his way 
to the stile. His disposition to treat the matter with 
contempt made him feel how important the matter 
was to him. The gentleman on the platform first saw 
Lawrence, and announced to the lady that some one 
50 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


was coming. Miss March turned around, and then 
rose to her feet. 

“ Upon my word ! ” she exclaimed, elevating her 
eyebrows a good deal more than was usual with her, 
“ if that isn’t Mr. Croft ! ” 

“Who is he?” asked the other, also rising. 

“He is a New York gentleman whom I know very 
well. He was down here last summer, but I can’t 
imagine what brings him here again.” 

Lawrence dismounted, tied his horse, and ap- 
proached the steps. Miss Roberta welcomed him 
cordially, coming down a little way to shake hands 
with him. Then she introduced the two gentlemen. 

“ Mr. Croft,” she said, “ let me make you acquainted 
with Mr. Keswick.” 

The afternoon, or the portion of it that was left, 
was spent on the porch, Mr. Brandon joining the 
party. It was to him that Lawrence chiefly talked, 
for the most part about the game and scenery of North 
Carolina, with which the old gentleman was quite 
familiar. But Lawrence had sufficient regard for 
himself and his position in the eyes of this family to 
help make a good deal of general conversation. What 
he said or heard, however, occupied only the extreme 
corners of his mind, the main portion of which was 
entirely filled with the chilling fear that that man 
might be the Keswick he was looking for. Of course, 
there was a bare chance that it was not, for there 
might be a numerous family, but even this little 
stupid glimmer of comfort was extinguished when 
Mr. Brandon familiarly addressed the gentleman as 
“ Junius.” 

Lawrence took a good look at the man he was 
51 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


anxious to study, and as far as outward appearances 
were concerned lie could find no fault with Roberta 
for having accepted him. He was taller than Croft, 
and not so correctly dressed. He seemed to be a 
person whom one would select as a companion for a 
hunt, a sail, or a talk upon political economy. There 
was about him an air of present laziness, but it was also 
evident that this was a disposition that could easily be 
thrown off. 

Lawrence’s mind was not only very much occupied, 
but very much perturbed. It must have been all a 
mistake about the engagement having been broken 
off. If this had been the case, the easy friendliness of 
the relations between Keswick and the old gentleman 
and his niece would have been impossible. Once or 
twice the thought came to Lawrence that he should 
congratulate himself for not having avowed his feelings 
towards Miss Roberta when he had an opportunity of 
doing so ; but his predominant emotion was one of 
disgust with his previous mode of action. If he had 
not weighed and considered the matter so carefully, 
and had been willing to take his chances as other men 
take them, he would, at least, have known in what 
relation he stood to Roberta, and would not have 
occupied the ridiculous position in which he now felt 
himself to be. 

When he took his leave, Roberta went with him to 
the stile. As they walked together across the smooth, 
short grass, a new set of emotions arose in Lawrence’s 
mind which drove out every other. They were grief, 
chagrin, and even rage, at not having won this woman. 
As to actual speech, there was nothing he could say, 
although his soul boiled and bubbled within him in 
52 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


his desire to speak. But if he had anything to say, 
now was his chance, for he had told them that he 
would proceed with his journey the next day. 

Miss Roberta had a way of looking up and looking 
down at the same time, particularly when she had 
asked a question and was waiting for the answer. Her 
face would be turned a little down, but her eyes would 
look up and give a very charming expression to those 
upturned eyes ; and if she happened to allow the smile 
with which she ceased speaking to remain upon her 
pretty lips, she generally had an answer of some sort 
very soon. If for no other reason, it would be given 
that she might ask another question. It was in this 
manner she said to Lawrence : “Do you really go away 
from us to-morrow?” 

“Yes,” said he, “I shall push on.” 

“ Do you not find the country very beautiful at this 
season?” asked Miss Roberta, after a few steps in 
silence. 

“ I don’t like autumn,” answered Lawrence. 
“ Everything is drying up and dying. I would rather 
see things dead.” 

Roberta looked at him without turning her head. 
“ But it will be just as bad in North Carolina,” she said. 

“There is an autumn in ourselves,” he answered, 
“just as much as there is in nature. I won’t see so 
much of that down there.” 

“ In some cases,” said Roberta, slowly, “ autumn is 
impossible.” 

They had reached the bottom of the steps, and Law- 
rence turned and looked towards her. “ Do you mean,” 
he asked, “when there has been no real summer?” 

Roberta laughed. “ Of course,” said she, “ if there 
53 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


has been no summer there can be no autumn. But 
you know there are places where it is summer all the 
time. Would you like to live in such a clime? ” 

Lawrence Croft put one foot on the step, and then 
he drew it back. “Miss March/’ said he, “my train 
does not leave until the afternoon, and I am coming 
over here in the morning to have one more walk in 
the woods with you. May I ? ” 

“ Certainly/’ she said j “ I shall be delighted ; that 
is, if you can overlook the fact that it is autumn.” 

When Miss Roberta returned to the house she found 
Junius Keswick sitting on a bench on the porch. She 
went over to him, and took a seat at the other end of 
the bench. 

“ So your gentleman is gone,” he said. 

“Yes,” she answered, “but only for the present. 
He is coming back in the morning.” 

“What for?” asked Keswick, a little abruptly. 

Miss Roberta took off her hat, for there was no need 
of a hat on a shaded porch, and holding it by the 
ribbons, she let it gently slide down towards her feet. 
“ He is coming,” she said, speaking rather slowly, “ to 
take a walk with me, and I know very well that when 
we have reached some place where he is sure there is 
no one to hear him, he is going to tell me that he loves 
me ; that he did not intend to speak quite so soon, but 
that circumstances have made it impossible for him to 
restrain himself any longer, and he will ask me to be 
his wife.” 

“And what are you going to say to him?” asked 
Keswick. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Roberta, her eyes fixed upon 
the hat, which she still held by its long ribbons. 

54 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


The next morning Junius Keswick, who had been 
up a long, long time before breakfast, sat, after that 
meal, looking at Roberta, who was reading a book in 
the parlor. “ She is a strange girl,” thought he. “ I 
cannot understand her. How is it possible that she 
can sit there so placidly reading that volume of Hux- 
ley, which I know she never saw before and which she 
has opened just about the middle, on a morning when 
she is expecting a man who will say things to her which 
may change her whole life? I could almost imagine 
that she has forgotten all about it.” 

Leggy, who had just entered the room to inform her 
mistress that Aunt Judy was ready for her, stood in 
rigid uprightness, her torpid eyes settled upon the 
lady. “I reckon,” so ran the thought within the 
mazes of her dark little interior, “ dat Miss Rob’s wus 
disgruntled dan she was dat ebenin’ when I make my 
cake, fur she got two dif’ent kinds o’ shoes on.” 

The morning went on, and Keswick found that he 
must go out again for a walk, although he had rambled 
several miles before breakfast. After her household 
duties had been completed, Miss Roberta took her book 
out to the porch ; and about noon, when her uncle 
came out and made some remarks upon the beauty of 
the day, she turned over the page at which she had 
opened the volume j ust after breakfast. An hour later 
Peggy brought her some luncheon, and felt it to be her 
duty to inform Miss Rob that she still wore one old 
boot and a new one. When Roberta returned to the 
porch after making a suitable change, she found Kes- 
wick there, looking a little tired. 

“Has your friend gone?” he asked, in a very quiet 
tone. 


55 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ He has not come yet,” she answered. 

“ Not come ! ” exclaimed Keswick. “ That’s odd ! 
However, there are two hours yet before dinner.” 

The two hours passed and no Lawrence Croft ap- 
peared ; nor came he at all that day. About dusk 
the man at the Green Sulphur Springs rode over with 
a note from Mr. Croft. The note was to Miss March, of 
course, and it simply stated that the writer was very 
sorry he could not keep the appointment he had made 
with her, but that it had suddenly become necessary 
for him to return to the North without continuing the 
journey he had planned ; that he was much grieved to 
be deprived of the opportunity of seeing her again ; 
but that he would give himself the pleasure, at the 
earliest possible moment, of calling on Miss March 
when she arrived in New York. 

When Miss Roberta had read this note she handed 
it to Keswick, who, when he returned it, asked : “ Does 
that suit you ? ” 

“No,” said she, “it does not suit me at all.” 


56 


CHAPTER VI 


It was mail-day at the very small village known as 
Howlett’s, and to the fence in front of the post-office 
were attached three mules and a horse. Inside the 
yard, tied to the low bough of a tree, was a very lean 
and melancholy horse, on which had lately arrived 
Wesley Green, the negro man who, twice a week, 
brought the mail from Pocahontas, a railway -station 
twenty miles away. There was a station not six miles 
from Howlett’s, but, for some reason, the mail-bag 
was always brought from and carried to Pocahontas ; 
Wesley Green requiring a whole day for a deliberate 
transit between the two points. 

In the post-office, which was the front room of a 
small wooden house approached by a high flight of 
steps, was the postmistress, Miss Harriet Corvey, who 
sat on the floor in one corner, while before her ex- 
tended a semicircle of men and boys. In this little as- 
semblage certain elderly men occupied seats which 
were considered to belong to them quite as much as if 
they had been hired pews in a church, and behind 
them stood up a row of tall young men and bare- 
footed boys of the neighborhood, while farthest in 
the rear were some quiet little darkies with mail- 
bags slung across their shoulders. 

57 


THE LATE MRS. NULI 


On a chair to the right, and most convenient to Miss 
Harriet, sat old Madison Chalkley, the biggest and 
most venerable citizen of the neighborhood. Mr. 
Chalkley never, by any chance, got a letter, the only 
mail-matter he received being the “ Southern Baptist 
Recorder , 77 which came on Saturdays, but, like most 
of the people present, he was at the post-office every 
mail- day to see who got anything. Next to him sat 
Colonel Iston, a tall, lean, quiet old gentleman, who 
had, for a long series of years, occupied the position of 
a last apple on a tree. He had no relatives, no friends 
with whom he corresponded, no business that was not 
conducted by word of mouth. In the last fifteen years 
he had received but one letter, and that had so sur- 
prised him that he carried it about with him three 
days before he opened it, and then he found that it 
was really intended for a gentleman of the same name 
in another county. And yet everybody knew that if 
Colonel Iston failed to appear in his place on mail-day, it 
would be because he was dead or prostrated by sickness. 

With the mail-bag on the floor at her left, Miss 
Harriet, totally oblivious of any law forbidding the 
opening of the mails in public, would put her hand 
into its open mouth, draw forth a letter or a paper, 
hold it up in front of her spectacles, and call out the 
name of its owner. Most of the letters went to the 
black boys with the mail-bags who came from country 
houses in the neighborhood, but whoever received 
letter, journal, or agricultural circular, received also 
at the same time the earnest gaze of everybody else in 
the room. Sometimes there was a letter for which 
there was no applicant present, and then Miss Harriet 
would say : “ Is anybody going past Mrs. Willis Sum- 
58 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


merses?” And if anybody was, be would take the 
letter, and it is to be hoped he remembered to deliver 
it in the course of a week. 

In spite of the precautions of the postmistress, un- 
called-for letters would gradually accumulate, and 
there was a little bundle of these In one of the few 
pigeonholes in a small desk in the corner of the room, 
in the drawer of which the postage-stamps were kept. 
Now and then a registered letter would arrive, and 
this always created considerable sensation in the room, 
and if the legal recipient did not happen to be present, 
Miss Harriet never breathed a quiet breath until he 
or she had been sent for, had taken the letter, and 
given her a receipt. Sometimes she sat up as late as 
eleven o’clock at night on mail-days, hoping that some 
one who had been sent for would arrive to relieve her 
of a registered letter. 

All the mail-matter had been distributed, everybody 
but Mr. Madison Chalkley had left the room ; and when 
the old gentleman, as was his wont on the first day of 
the month, had gone up to the desk, untied the bundle 
of uncalled-for letters, the outer ones permanently 
rounded by the tightness of the cord, and after care- 
fully looking over them, one by one, had made his 
usual remark about the folly of people who wouldn’t 
stay in a place until their letters could get to them, 
had tied up the bundle and taken his departure ; then 
Miss Harriet put the empty mail-bag under the desk, 
and went up-stairs, where an old lady sat by the win- 
dow, sewing in the fading light. 

“ No letters for you to-day, Mrs. Keswick,” said she. 

“ Of course not,” was the answer $ “ I didn’t expect 
any.” 


59 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Don’t you think/’ said Miss Harriet, taking a seat 
opposite the old lady, “ that it is about time for you 
to go home and attend to your affairs ? ” 

“Well, upon my word!” said Mrs. Keswick, let- 
ting her hands and her work fall in her lap, “that’s 
truly hospitable. I didn’t expect it of you, Harriet 
Corvey.” 

“ I wouldn’t have said it,” returned the postmistress, 
“ if I hadn’t felt dead certain that you knew you were 
always welcome here. But Tony Miles told me, just 
before the mail came in, that the lady who’s at your 
place is running it herself, and that she’s going to use 
pickle brine for a fertilizer.” 

“Very likely,” said Mrs. Keswick, her face totally 
unmoved by this intelligence,— “ very likely. That’s 
the way they used to do in ancient times, or some- 
thing of the same kind. They used to sow salt over 
their enemy’s land so that nothing would ever grow 
there. That woman’s family has sowed salt over the 
lands of me and mine for three generations, and it’s 
quite natural she should come here to finish up.” 

There was a little silence after this, and then Miss 
Harriet remarked: “Your people must know where 
you are. Why don’t they come and tell you about 
these things?” 

“ They know better,” answered Mrs. Keswick, with 
a grim smile. “ I went away once before, and Uncle 
Isham hunted me up, and he got a lesson that he’ll 
never forget. When I want them to know where I 
am, I’ll tell them.” 

“But really and truly,” said Miss Harriet,— “and 
you know I only speak to you for your own good, for 
you pay your board here, and if you didn’t you’d be 
60 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


just as welcome,— do you intend to keep away from 
your own house as long as that lady chooses to stay 
there ! ” 

11 Exactly so long,” answered the old lady. u I shall 
not keep them out of my house if they choose to come 
to it. No member of my family ever did that. There 
is the house, and they are free to enter it, but they 
shall not find me there. If there was any reason to 
believe that everything was dropped and done with, 
I would be as glad to see him as anybody could be, but 
I knew from his letter just what he was going to say 
when he came, and as things have turned out, I see 
that it was all worse than I expected. He and Ro- 
berta March were both coming, and they thought that 
together they could talk me down, and make me for- 
give and be happy, and all that stuff. But as I wasn’t 
there, of course he wouldn’t stay, and so there she is 
now by herself. She thinks I must come home after a 
while, and the minute I do that, back he’ll come, and 
then they’ll have just what they want. But I reckon 
she’ll find that I can stick it out just as long as she can. 
If Roberta March turns things upside down there, it’ll 
be because she can’t keep her hands out of mischief, 
and that proves that she belongs to her own family. 
If there’s any harm done, it don’t matter so much to 
me, and it will be worse for him in the end. And 
now, Harriet Corvey, if you’ve got to make up the 
mail to go away early in the morning, you’d better 
have supper over and get about it.” 

Meanwhile, at Mrs. Keswick’s house Mrs. Null was 
acting just as conscientiously as she knew how. She 
had had some conversations with Freddy on the sub- 
ject, and she had assured him, and at the same time 

61 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


herself, that what she was doing was the only thing 
that could be done. “ It was dreadfully hard for me 
to get the money to come down here,” she said to him, 
— “ you not helping me a bit, as ordinary husbands do, 
—and I can’t afford to go back until I have accom- 
plished something. It’s very strange that she stays 
away so long, without telling anybody where she has 
gone to, but I know she is queer, and I suppose she has 
her own reasons for what she does. She can’t be stay- 
ing away on my account, for she doesn’t know who I 
am, and wouldn’t have any objections to me if she did 
know. I suspect it is something about Junius which 
keeps her away, and I suppose she thinks he is still 
here. But one of them must soon come back, and if I 
can see him, or find out from her where he is, it will 
be all right. It seems to me, Freddy, that if I could 
have a good talk with Junius things would begin to 
look better for you and me. And then I want to put 
him on his guard about this gentleman who is looking 
for him. By the way, I suppose I ought to write a 
letter to Mr. Croft, or he’ll think I have given up the 
job, and will set somebody else on the track, and that 
is what I don’t want him to do. I can’t say that I 
have positively anything to report, but I can say that 
I have strong hopes of success, considering where I am. 
As soon as I found that Junius had really left the 
North, I concluded that this would be the best place 
to come to for him. And now, Freddy, there’s nothing 
for us to do but to wait, and if we can make ourselves 
useful here I’m sure we will be glad to do it. We 
both hate being lazy, and a little housekeeping and 
farm-managing will be good practice for us during our 
honeymoon.” 


62 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Putting on her hat, she went down into the garden 
where Uncle Isham was at work. She could find little 
to do there, for he was merely pulling turnips, and she 
could see nothing to suggest in regard to his method 
of work. She had found, too, that the old negro had 
not much respect for her agricultural opinions. He 
attended to his work as if his mistress had been at 
home, and although, in regard to the ploughing, he 
had carried out the orders of Mrs. Hull, he had done 
it because it ought to be done, and because he was 
very glad for some one else to take the responsibility. 

“ Uncle Isham / 7 said she, after she had watched the 
process of turnip-pulling for a few minutes, “if you 
haven’t anything else to do when you get through 
with this, you might come up to the house, and I will 
talk to you about the flower-beds. I suppose they 
ought to be made ready for the winter.” 

“ Miss Hull,” said the old man, slowly unbending his 
back, and getting himself upright, “ dar’s alius sumfin 
else to do. Ebber sence I was fus’ bawn dar was sum- 
fin else to do, an’ I ’spec’s it’ll keep on dat ar way till 
de day I dies.” 

“ Of course there will be nothing else to do then but 
to die,” observed Mrs. Hull ; “ but I hope that day is 
far off, Uncle Isham.” 

“Dunno ’bout dat, Miss Hull,” said he. “But den 
some people do lib dreffle long. Look at ole Aun’ 
Patsy. I’se got to lib a long time afore I’se as ole as 
Aun’ Patsy is now.” 

“You don’t mean to say,” exclaimed Mrs. Hull, 
“ that Aunt Patsy is alive yet ! ” 

“Ob course she is, Miss Hull,” said Uncle Isham. 
“If she’d died sence you’ve been here we’d ’a’ tole 
63 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


you, sartin. She was gwine to die las’ week, but two 
or free days don’ make much difirence to Aun’ Patsy, 
she done lib so long anyhow.” 

“ Aunt Patsy alive ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Null again. 
“ I’m going straight off to see her.” 

When she had reached the house, and had informed 
Letty where she was going, the rotund maid expressed 
high approbation of the visit, and offered to send Plez 
to show Mrs. Null the way. 

“I don’t need any one to go with me,” said that 
lady, and away she started. 

“ She don’ nebber want nobody to show her nowhar,” 
said Plez, returning with looks of much disapprobation 
to his business of peeling potatoes for dinner. 

When Mrs. Null reached the cabin of Aunt Patsy, 
after about fifteen minutes’ walk, she entered without 
ceremony, and found the old woman sitting on a very 
low chair by the window, with the much- talked- of, 
many-colored quilt in her lap. Her white woolly head 
was partially covered with a red-and-yellow handker- 
chief, and an immense pair of iron-bound spectacles 
obstructed the view of her small black face, lined and 
seamed in such a way that it appeared to have shrunk 
to half its former size. In her long, bony fingers, rusty 
black on the outside and a very pale tan on the inside, 
she held a coarse needle and thread and a corner of 
the quilt. Near by, in front of a brick-paved fire- 
place, was one of her great-granddaughters, a girl about 
eighteen years old, who was down upon her hands and 
knees, engaged with lungs, more powerful than ordinary 
bellows, in blowing into flame a coal upon the hearth. 

“How d’ye, Aunt Patsy?” said Mrs. Null. “I 
didn’t expect to see you looking so well.” 

64 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Bat’s Miss Null/’ said the girl, raising her eyes 
from the fire, and addressing her ancestor. 

The old woman stuck her needle into the quilt, and 
reached out her hand to her visitor, who took it cor- 
dially. 

“How d’ye, miss?” said Aunt Patsy, in a thin but 
quite firm voice, while the young woman got up and 
brought Mrs. Null a chair, very short in the legs, very 
high in the back, and with its split-oak bottom very 
much sunken. 

“How are you feeling to-day, Aunt Patsy?” asked 
Mrs. Null, gazing with much interest on the aged 
face. 

“’Bout as common,” replied the old woman. “I 
didn’t ’spec’ to be libin’ dis week, but I ain’t got my 
quilt done yit, an’ I can’t go ’mong de angels wrop in 
a shroud wid one corner off.” 

“Certainly not,” answered Mrs. Null. “Haven’t 
you pieces enough to finish it ? ” 

“Oh, yaas, I got bits enough, but de trouble is to 
sew ’em up. I can’t sew very fas’ nowadays.” 

“ It’s a pity for you to have to do it yourself,” said 
Mrs. Null. “ Can’t this young person, your daughter, 
do it for you? ” 

“ Hat’s not my darter,” said the old woman. “ Hat’s 
my son Tom’s yaller boy Bob’s chile. Bob’s dead. 
She can’t do no sewin’ for me. I’m not gwine ter hab 
folks sayin’ Aun’ Patsy done got so ole she can’t do her 
own sewin’.” 

“ If you are not going to die till you get your quilt 
finished, Aunt Patsy,” said Mrs. Null, “ I hope it won’t 
be done for a long time.” 

“ Hon’ do to be waitin’ too long, miss. He fus’ thing 
65 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


you know some Oder cullud pusson’ll be dyin’ wrop 
up in a quilt like dis, and git dar fus’.” 

Mrs. Null now looked about her with much interest, 
and asked many questions in regard to the old woman’s 
comfort and ailments. To these the answers, though 
on the whole satisfactory, were quite short, Aunt Patsy, 
apparently, much preferring to look at her visitor than 
to talk to her. And a very pretty young woman she 
was to look at, with a face which had grown brighter 
and plumper during every day of her country sojourn. 

When Mrs. Null had gone, promising to send Aunt 
Patsy something nice to eat, the old woman turned to 
her great-granddaughter, and said : “ Did anybody 
come wid her f ” 

u Nobody corned,” said the girl. u Beckon she done 
git herse’f los’ some o’ dese days.” 

The old woman made no answer, but folding up the 
maniac coverlet, she handed it to the girl, and told 
her to put it away. 

That night Uncle Isham, by Mrs. Null’s orders, car- 
ried to Aunt Patsy a basket containing various good 
things considered suitable for an aged colored woman 
without teeth. 

“ Miss Annie sen’ dese h’yar ? ” asked the old woman, 
taking the basket and lifting the lid. 

“ Miss Annie ! ” exclaimed Uncle Isham. “ Who 
she ? ” 

11 Git out, Uncle Isham ! ” said Aunt Patsy, somewhat 
impatiently. “ She was h’yar dis mawnin’.” 

u Dat was Miss Null,” said Isham. 

“ Miss Annie all de same,” said Aunt Patsy, “ on’y 
growed up an’ married. D’ye mean to stan’ dar, 
Uncle Isham, an’ tell me you don’ know de little gal 
66 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

wot Mahs’ John use ter carry in he arms ter feed de 
tukkies ? ” 

“ She and she mudder dead long ago,” said Isham. 
“ You is pow’ful ole, Ann 7 Patsy, an’ you done forgit 
dese things.” 

“ Done forgit nuffin,” curtly replied the old woman. 
“Don’ tell me no mo’ fool stuff. Dat Miss Annie, 
growed up an’ married.” 

“Did she tell you dat?” asked Isham. 

“ She didn’t tell me nuffin. She kep’ her mouf shet 
’bout dat, an’ I kep’ my mouf shet. Don’ talk to me ! 
Dat’s Miss Annie, shuh as shootin’. Ef she hadn’t fotch 
nuffin ’long wid her but her eyes I’d ’a’ knowed dem ; 
same ole eyes dey all had. An’, ’sides dat, you fool 
Isham, ef she not Miss Annie, wot she come down h’yar 
fur?” 

“ Nebber thinked o’ dat ! ” said Uncle Isham, reflec- 
tively. * 1 Ef you’s so pow’ful shuh, Aun’ Patsy, I reckon 
dat is Miss Annie. Couldn’t ’spec’ me to ’member her. 
I wasn’t much up at de house in dem times, an’ she 
was took away ’fore I give much ’tention ter her.” 

“Don’ ole miss know she dar?” asked Aunt Patsy. 

“She dunno nuffin ’bout it,” answered Isham. 
“She’s stayin’ away cos she think Mahs’ Junius dar 
yit.” 

“ Why don’ you tell her, now you knows it’s Miss 
Annie wot’s dar?” 

“You don’ ketch me tellin’ her nuffin,” replied the 
old man, shaking his head. “Wish you was spry ’nuf 
ter go, Ann’ Patsy. She’d b’lieve you j an’ she couldn’t 
r’ar an’ charge inter a ole pusson like you, nohow.” 

“ Ain’t dar nobody else in dis h’yar place to go tell 
her?” asked Aunt Patsy. 


67 


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« Not a pusson,” was Isham’s decided answer. 

« Well, den, I is spry ’nuf ! 77 exclaimed Aunt Patsy, 
with a vigorous nod of lier head which sent her spec- 
tacles down to her mouth, displaying a pair of little 
eyes sparkling with a fire long thought to be extinct. 
“ Ef you’ll carry me dar, to Miss Harriet Corvey’s, I’ll 
tell ole miss myse’f. I didn’t ’spec’ to go out dat dohr 
till de fun’ral, but I’ll go dis time. I ’spected dar was 
sumfin crooked when Miss Annie didn’t tole me who 
she was. I’se not ’feared to tell ole miss, an’ you jes 
carry me up dar, Uncle Isham.” 

“ I’ll do dat,” said the old man, much delighted with 
the idea of doing something which he supposed would 
remove the clouds which overhung the household of 
his mistress. “ I’ll fotch de hoss an’ de spring- waggin, 
an’ dribe you ober dar.” 

“ No, you don’ do no sech thing ! ” exclaimed Aunt 
Patsy, angrily. “ I ain’t gwine to hab no hosses to run 
away an’ chuck me out on de road. Ef you kin fotch 
de oxen an’ de cart, I go ’long wid you, but I don’ 
want no hosses.” 

u Dat’s f us’ -rate,” said Isham. u I’ll fotch de ox-cart, 
an’ carry you ober. When you want ter go ? ” 

“ Dunno jes now,” said Aunt Patsy, pushing away a 
block of wood which served for a footstool, and mak- 
ing elaborate preparations to rise from her chair. 
u I’ll sen’ fur you when I’se ready.” 

The next morning was a very busy one for Aunt 
Patsy’s son Tom’s yellow boy Bob’s child; and by 
afternoon it was necessary to send for two colored 
women from a neighboring cabin to assist in the prep- 
arations which Aunt Patsy was making for her pro- 
jected visit. An old hair-covered trunk, which had 
68 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


not been opened for many years, was brought out, and 
the contents exposed to the unaccustomed light of 
day ; two coarse cotton petticoats were exhumed and 
ordered to be bleached and ironed ; a yellow-flannel 
garment of the same nature was put aside to be mended 
with some red pieces which were rolled up in it ; out 
of several yarn stockings of various ages and lengths 
two were selected as being pretty much alike, and laid 
by to be darned ; an old black frock with full “ bishop 
sleeves,’ 7 a good deal mended and dreadfully wrinkled, 
was given to one of the neighbors, expert in such 
matters, to be ironed ; and the propriety of making 
use of various other ancient duds was eagerly and 
earnestly discussed. Aunt Patsy, whose vitality had 
been wonderfully aroused, now that there was some 
opportunity for making use of it, spent nearly two 
hours turning over, examining, and reflecting upon a 
pair of old-fashioned corsets, which, although they 
had been long cherished, she had never worn. She 
now hoped that the occasion for their use had at last 
arrived, but the utter impossibility of getting herself 
into them was finally made apparent to her, and she 
mournfully returned them to the trunk. 

Washing, starching, ironing, darning, patching, and 
an immense deal of talk and consultation, occupied 
that and a good deal of the following day, the rest of 
which was given up to the repairing of an immense 
pair of green-baize shoes, without which Aunt Patsy 
could not be persuaded to go into the outer air. It 
was Saturday morning when she began to dress for the 
trip, and although Isham, wearing a high silk hat, and 
a long black coat which had once belonged to a clergy- 
man, arrived with the ox-cart about noon, the old 
69 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


woman was not ready to start till two or three hours 
afterwards. Her assistants, who had increased in 
number, were active and assiduous. Aunt Patsy was 
very particular as to the manner of her garbing, and 
gave them a great deal of trouble. It had been fifteen 
years since she had set foot outside of her house, and 
ten more since she had ridden in any kind of vehicle. 
This was a great occasion, and nothing concerning it 
was to be considered lightly. 

“ ’Tain’t right / 7 she said to Uncle Isham, when he 
arrived, “fur a pow’ful ole pusson like me to set out 
on a jarney ob dis kin 7 7 thout 7 ligious sarvices. 7 Tain 7 t 
7 spectable . 77 

Uncle Isham rubbed his head a good deal at this 
remark. u Dunno wot we gwine to do 7 bout dat , 77 he 
said. “ Br udder Jeemes lib free miles off, an 7 mos 7 
like he 7 s out ditchin 7 . Couldn’t git him h’yar dis 
ebenin 7 , nohow . 77 

“ Well, den , 77 said Aunt Patsy, “ you conduc 7 sarvices 
yourse’f, Uncle Isham, an 7 we kin have pra’r-ineetin 7 , 
anyhow . 77 

Uncle Isham having consented to this, he put his 
oxen under the care of a small boy, and collecting in 
Aunt Patsy’s room the five colored women and girls 
who were in attendance upon her, he conducted 
“pra’rs,” making an extemporaneous petition which 
comprehended all the probable contingencies of the 
journey, even to the accident of the right wheel of the 
cart coming off, which the old man very reverently 
asserted he would have linched with a regular pin 
instead of a broken poker-handle, if he could have 
found one. After the prayer, with which Aunt Patsy 
signified her entire satisfaction by frequent amens, 
70 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


the company joined in the vigorous singing of a hymn, 
in which they stated that they were “ gwine down to 
Jurdun, an’ though the road is rough, when once we 
shuh we git dar, we all be glad enough ; de rocks an 7 
de stones, an 7 de jolts to de bones, will be nuffin to de 
glory an 7 de j 7 y . 77 

The hymn over, Uncle Isham clapped on his hat, 
and hurried menacingly after the small boy, who had 
let the oxen wander along the roadside until one 
wheel of the cart was nearly in the ditch. Aunt Patsy 
now partook of a collation, consisting of a piece of 
hoe-cake dipped in pork fat, and a cup of coffee, which 
having finished, she declared herself ready to start. 
A chair was put into the cart, and secured by ropes to 
keep it from slipping $ and then, with two women on 
one side and Uncle Isham on the other, while another 
woman stood in the cart to receive and adjust her, she 
was placed in position. 

Once properly disposed she presented a figure which 
elicited the lively admiration of her friends, whose 
number was now increased by the arrival of a couple 
of negro boys on mules, who were going to the post- 
office, it being Saturday, and mail-day. Around Aunt 
Patsy 7 s shoulders was a bright-blue worsted shawl, and 
upon her head a voluminous turban of vivid red and 
yellow. Since their emancipation, the negroes in that 
part of the country had discarded the positive and 
gaudy colors that were their delight when they were 
slaves, and had transferred their fancy to delicate 
pinks, pale blues, and similar shades. But Aunt Patsy 7 s 
ideas about dress were those of bygone days, and she 
was too old now to change them, and her brightest 
handkerchief had been selected for her head on this 


71 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


important day. Above her she held a parasol, which 
had been graciously loaned by her descendant of the 
fourth generation. It was white, and lined with pink, 
and on the edges still lingered some fragments of cot- 
ton lace. 

Uncle Isham now took his position by the side of 
his oxen, and started them ; and slowly creaking, Aunt 
Patsy’s vehicle moved off, followed by the two boys on 
mules, three colored women and two girls on foot, and 
by two little black urchins who were sometimes on 
foot, but invariably on the tail of the cart when they 
could manage to evade the backward turn of Uncle 
Isham’s eye. 

“ Ef I should go to glory on de road, Uncle Isham, 1 ” 
said Aunt Patsy, as the right wheel of the cart emerged 
from a rather awkward rut, u I don’ want no fuss made 
’bout me. You kin jes bury me in de clothes I got 
on, ’cep’n’ de pararsol, ob course, which is ’Liza’s. Jes 
wrop de quilt all roun’ me, an’ hab a extry-size coffin. 
You needn’t do nuffin more’n dat.” 

u Oh, you’s not gwine to glory dis time, Aun’ Patsy,” 
replied Uncle Isham, who did not want to encourage 
the idea of the old woman’s departure from life while 
in his ox-cart. But after this remark of the old woman 
he was extraordinarily careful in regard to jolts and 
bumps. 

When the procession reached the domain of Miss 
Harriet Corvey, there was gathered inside the yard 
quite a number of the usual attendants on mail-days 
awaiting the arrival of Wesley Green with his wad- 
dling horse and leather bag. But all interest in the 
coming of the mail was lost in the surprise and ad- 
miration excited by the astounding apparition of old 
72 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Aunt Patsy in the ox-cart, attended by her retinue. 
As the oxen, skilfully guided by Uncle Isham’s long 
prod, turned into the yard, everybody came forward 
to find out the reason of this unlooked-for occurrence. 
Even old Madison Chalkley, his stout legs swaddled 
in home-made overalls, dismounted from his horse, 
and Colonel Iston raised his tall form from the porch 
step, where he had been sitting, and approached the 
cart. 

“Upon my word,” said a young fellow with high 
boots, slouched hat, and a riding- whip, “ if here ain’t 
old Aunt Patsy come after a letter ! Where do you 
expect a letter from, Aunt Patsy?” 

The old woman fixed her spectacles on him for an 
instant, and then said in a clear voice which could be 
heard by all the little crowd : “ ’Tain’t from nobody 
dat I owes any money to, nohow, Mahs’ Bill Trimble.” 

A general laugh followed this rejoinder, and Uncle 
Isham grinned with gratified pride in the enduring 
powers of his charge. The old woman now put down 
her parasol, and made as if she would descend from 
the cart. 

“You needn’t git out, Aun’ Patsy,” said several 
negro boys at once. “We’ll fotch your letters to 
you.” 

“ Git ’long wid you ! ” said the old woman, angrily. 
“I didn’t come here fur no letters. Ef I wanted 
letters I’d sen’ ’Liza fur ’em. Git out de way.” 

A chair was now brought, and placed near the cart ; 
a woman mounted into the vehicle to assist her ; Uncle 
Isham and another colored man stood ready to receive 
her, and Aunt Patsy began her descent. This, to her 
mind, was a much more difficult and dangerous pro- 
73 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


ceeding than getting into the cart, and she was very 
slow and cautious about it. First, one of her great 
green-baize feet was put over the tail of the cart, and 
resting her weight upon the two men, Aunt Patsy 
allowed it to descend to the chair, where it was grad- 
ually followed by the other foot. Having safely 
accomplished this much, the old woman ejaculated : 
“ Bress de Lor 7 ! 77 When, in the same prudent man- 
ner, she had reached the ground, she heaved a sigh of 
relief, and fervently exclaimed : “ De Lor 7 be bressed ! 77 

Supported by Uncle Isham and the other man, Aunt 
Patsy now approached the steps. She was so old, so 
little, so bowed, and so apparently feeble, that several 
persons remonstrated with her for attempting to go 
into the house when anything she wanted would be 
gladly done for her. “Much 7 bliged , 77 said the old 
woman, “ but I don 7 want no letters nor nuffin. Pse 
come to make a call on de white folks, an 7 Pse gwine in . 77 

This announcement was received with a laugh, and 
she was allowed to proceed without further hindrance. 
She got up the porch steps without much difficulty, 
her supporters taking upon themselves most of the 
necessary exertion ; but when she reached the top, she 
dispensed with their assistance. Shuffling to the front 
door, she there met Miss Harriet Corvey, who greeted 
the old woman with much surprise, but shook hands 
with her very cordially. 

“Ebenin 7 , Miss Har 7 et , 77 said Aunt Patsy. And 
then, lowering her voice, she asked : “Is ole miss 
h’yarU 7 

Miss Harriet hesitated a moment, and then she an- 
swered : “Yes, she is j but I don’t believe she’ll come 
down to see you . 77 


74 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

“Oh, HI go up-sta’rs,” said Aunt Patsy. “Whar 
she?” 

“ She’s in the spare chamber,” said Miss Harriet j 
and Aunt Patsy, with a nod of the head signifying that 
she knew all about that room, crossed the hall, and 
began, slowly but steadily, to ascend the stairs. Miss 
Harriet gazed upon her with amazement, for Aunt 
Patsy had been considered chair-ridden when the post- 
mistress was a young woman. Arrived at the end of 
her toilsome ascent, Aunt Patsy knocked at the door 
of the spare chamber, and as the voice of her old mis- 
tress said, “ Come in ! ” she went in. 





75 



CHAPTER VII 

When Lawrence Croft reached the Green Sulphur 
Springs, after his interview with Miss March, his soul 
was still bubbling and boiling with emotion, and it 
continued in that condition all night, at least during 
that great part of the night of which he was conscious. 
The sight of the lady he loved, under the new cir- 
cumstances in which he found her, had determined 
him to throw prudence and precaution to the winds, 
and to ask her at once to be his wife. 

But the next morning Lawrence arose very late. 
His coffee had evidently been warmed over, and his 
bacon had been cooked for a long, long time. The 
world did not appear to him in a favorable light, and 
he was obliged to smoke two cigars before he was at 
all satisfied with it. While he was smoking he did a 
good deal of thinking, and it was then that he came 
to the conclusion that he would not go over to Mid- 
branch and propose to Roberta March. Such precipi- 
tate action would be unjust to himself and unjust to 
her. In her eyes it would probably appear to be the 
act of a man who had been suddenly spurred to action 
by the sight of a rival, and this, if Roberta was the 
woman he believed her to be, would prejudice her 
against him. And yet he knew very well that these 
76 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


reasons would avail nothing if he should see her as 
he intended. He had found that he was much more 
in love with her than he had supposed, and he felt 
positively certain that the next time he was alone with 
her he would declare his passion. 

Another thing that he felt he should consider was 
that the presence of Keswick, if looked upon with a 
philosophic eye, was not a reason for immediate action. 
If the old engagement had positively been broken off, 
he was at the house merely as a family friend ; while, 
on the other hand, if the rupture had not been abso- 
lute, and if Roberta really loved this tall Southerner 
and wished to marry him, there was a feeling of honor 
about Lawrence which forbade him to interfere at this 
moment. When she came to New York he would 
find out how matters really stood, and then he would 
determine on his own action. 

And yet he would have proposed to Roberta that 
moment if he had had the opportunity. Her personal 
presence would have banished philosophy, and even 
honor. 

Lawrence was a long time in coming to these con- 
clusions, and it was late in the afternoon when he 
despatched his note. Having now given up his North 
Carolina trip,— one object of which had been still an- 
other visit to Midbranch on his return,— he was obliged 
to wait until the next day for a train to the North ; 
and, consequently, he had another evening to devote 
to reflections. These, after a time, became unsatisfac- 
tory. He had told the exact truth in his note to 
Roberta, for he felt that it was necessary for him to 
leave that part of the country in order to make im- 
possible an interview for which he believed the proper 
77 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


time had not arrived. He was consulting his best 
interests, and also, no doubt, those of the lady. And 
yet, in spite of this reasoning, he was not satisfied with 
himself. He felt that his note was not entirely honest 
and true. There was subterfuge about it, and some- 
thing of duplicity. This he believed was foreign to 
his nature, and he did not like it. 

Lawrence had scarcely finished his breakfast the 
next morning when Mr. Junius Keswick arrived at 
the door of his cottage. This gentleman had walked 
over from Midbranch, and was a little dusty about his 
boots and the lower part of his trousers. Lawrence 
greeted him politely, but was unable to restrain a 
slight indication of surprise. It being more pleasant 
on the porch than in the house, Mr. Croft invited his 
visitor to take a seat there, and the latter very kindly 
accepted the cigar which was offered him, although 
he would have preferred the pipe he had in his 
pocket. 

“ I thought it possible,” said Keswick, as soon as the 
two had fairly begun to smoke, u that you might not 
yet have left here, and so came over in the hope of 
seeing you.” 

“Very kind,” said Lawrence. 

Keswick smiled. “ I must admit,” said he, u that it 
was not solely for the pleasure of meeting you again 
that I came, although I am very glad to have an op- 
portunity for renewing our acquaintance. I came 
because I am quite convinced that Miss March wished 
very much to see you at the time arranged between 
you, and that she was annoyed and discomposed by 
your failure to keep your engagement. Considering 
that you did not, and probably could not, know this, 
78 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


I deemed I would do you a service by informing you 
of the fact.” 

“Did Miss March send you to tell me this?” ex- 
claimed Lawrence. 

“ Miss March knows nothing whatever of my com- 
ing,” was the answer. 

“ Then I must say, sir,” exclaimed Lawrence, “ that 
you have taken a great deal upon yourself.” 

Keswick leaned forward, and after knocking off the 
ashes of his cigar on the outside of the railing, he re- 
plied in a tone quite unmoved by the reproach of his 
companion : “ It may appear so on the face of it, but, 
in fact, I am actuated only by a desire to serve Miss 
March, for whom I would do any service that I thought 
she desired. And, looking at it from your side, I am 
sure that I would be very much obliged to any one 
who would inform me, if I did not know it, that a lady 
greatly wished to see me.” 

“Why does she want to see me?” asked Croft. 
“ What has she to say to me?” 

“I do not know,” said Keswick. “I only know 
that she was very much disappointed in not seeing 
you yesterday.” 

“ If that is the case, she might have written to me,” 
said Lawrence. 

“ I do not think you quite understand the situation,” 
observed his companion. “ Miss March is not a lady 
who would even intimate to a gentleman that she 
wished him to come to her when it was obvious that 
such was not his desire. But it seemed to me that if 
the gentleman should become aware of the lady’s 
wishes through the medium of a third party, the matter 
would arrange itself without difficulty.” 

79 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“By the gentleman going to her, I suppose/’ re- 
marked Croft. 

“ Of course,” said Keswick. 

“ There is no 1 of course ’ about it,” was Lawrence’s 
rather quick reply. 

At that moment some letters were brought to him 
from a little post-office near by, to which he had 
ordered his mail to be forwarded. As the address on 
one of these letters caught his eye, the somewhat stern 
expression on his face gave place to a smile, and beg- 
ging his visitor to excuse him, he put his other letters 
into his pocket, and opened this one. It was very 
short, and was from Mr. Candy’s cashier. It was 
written from Howlett’s, Virginia, a place unknown to 
him, and stated that the writer expected in a very 
short time to give him some accurate information in 
regard to Mr. Keswick, and expressed the hope that 
he would allow the affair to remain entirely in her 
hands until she should write again. It was quite nat- 
ural that, under the circumstances, Lawrence should 
smile broadly as he folded up this note. The man in 
question was sitting beside him, and, in a measure, 
was turning the tables upon him. Lawrence had been 
very anxious to find out what sort of a man was Kes- 
wick, and the latter now seemed in the way of making 
some discoveries in the same line in regard to Law- 
rence. One thing he must certainly do : he must write 
as soon as possible to his enterprising agent, and tell 
her that her services were no longer needed. She 
must have pushed the matter with a great deal of 
energy to have brought her down to Virginia, and he 
could not help hoping that her discretion was equal to 
her investigative capacity. 

80 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


When, after this little interruption, Lawrence again 
addressed Junius Keswick, his manner was so much 
more affable that the other could not fail but notice it. 

“ Mr. Keswick/’ he said, “ as our conversation seems 
to be based upon personalities, perhaps you will ex- 
cuse me if I ask you if I am mistaken in believing that 
you were once engaged to be married to Miss March? ” 

“You are entirely correct,” said Junius. “I was 
engaged to her, and I hope to be engaged to her 
again.” 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed Croft, turning in his chair 
with a start. 

“Yes,” continued Keswick; “ our engagement was 
dissolved in consequence of a certain family complica- 
tion, and, as I said before, I hope in time to be able to 
renew it.” 

Lawrence threw away his cigar, and sat for a few 
moments in thought. The engagement, then, did not 
exist. Roberta was free. Recollections came to him 
of his own intercourse with her during the past sum- 
mer, and his heart gave a bound. “Mr. Keswick,” 
said he, “ upon consideration of the matter I think I 
will call upon Miss March this morning.” 

If Keswick had expressed himself entirely satisfied 
with this decision he would have done injustice to his 
feelings. The service he had taken upon himself to 
perform for Miss March he had considered a duty, but 
if his mission had failed he would have been better 
pleased than with its success. He made, however, a 
courteous reply to Croft’s remark, and rose to depart. 
But this the other would not allow. 

“You told me,” said Croft, “that you walked over 
here ; but it is much warmer now, and you must not 
81 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


think of such a thing as walking back. The man here 
has a horse and bnggy. I will get him to harness up, 
and I will drive you over to Midbranch.” 

As there was no good reason why he should decline 
this offer, Junius accepted it, and in half an hour the 
two were on their way. 


82 


CHAPTER VIII 

Old Mr. Brandon of Midbranch was not in a very 
happy frame of mind, and he had good reasons for 
dissatisfaction. He was an ardent supporter of a mar- 
riage between his niece and Junius Keswick ; and 
when the engagement had been broken off he had con- 
sidered that both these young people had acted in a 
manner very foolish and contrary to their best inter- 
ests. There was no opposition to the match except 
from old Mrs. Keswick, who was the aunt of Junius, 
but who considered herself as occupying the position 
of a mother. Junius was the son of a sister who had 
also married into the Keswick family, and his parents 
having died while he was a boy, his aunt had taken 
him under her charge, and her house had then become 
his home ; although of late years some of his absences 
had been long ones. Mrs. Keswick had no personal 
objections to Roberta, never having seen that lady, 
and knowing little of her ; but an alliance between her 
Junius and any member of that branch of the Bran- 
dons u which, ” to use the old lady’s own words, u had 
for four generations cheated, stripped, and scornfully 
used my people, scattering their atoms over the face 
of three counties,” was monstrous. Nothing could 
make her consent to such an enormity, and she had 
83 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


informed Junius that if he married that March girl 
three of them should live together— himself, his wife, 
and her undying curse. In order that Miss March 
might not fail to hear of this post-connubial arrange- 
ment, she had been informed of it by letter. Of course 
this had broken off the engagement, for Roberta would 
not live under a curse, nor would she tear a man from 
the only near relative he had in the world. Keswick 
himself, like most men, would have been willing to 
have this tearing take place for the sake of uniting 
himself to such a charming creature as Roberta March. 
But the lady on one side was as inflexible as the 
lady on the other, and the engagement was definitely 
and absolutely ended. 

Mr. Brandon considered all this as stuff and non- 
sense. He could not deny that his branch of the 
Brandons had certainly got a good deal out of Mrs. 
Keswick’s family. But here was a chance to make 
everything all right again, and he would be delighted 
to see Junius, a relative, although a distant one, come 
into possession of Midbranch. As for the old lady’s 
opposition, that should not be considered at all, he 
thought. It was his opinion that her mind had been 
twisted by her bad temper, and nothing she could say 
could hurt anybody. 

Of late Mr. Brandon had been much encouraged by 
the fact that Junius had begun to resume his position 
as a friend of the family. This was all very well. If 
the young people, by occasional meetings, could keep 
alive their sentiments towards each other, the time 
would come when all opposition would cease, and the 
marriage would become an assured fact. He did not 
believe either of the young people would care enough 
84 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


for a post-mortem curse, if there should be one, to 
keep themselves separated from each other on its ac- 
count for the rest of their lives. 

But the recent quite unexpected return of Lawrence 
Croft to Midbranch, combined with the evident dis- 
composure into which Roberta had been thrown by 
his failure to come the next day, had given the old 
gentleman some unpleasant ideas. His niece had 
mentioned that she expected Mr. Croft that day, and 
although she said nothing in regard to her subsequent 
disappointment and vexation, his mind was quite acute 
enough to perceive it. Exactly what it all meant he 
knew not, but it augured danger. For the first time 
he began to look upon Mr. Croft in the light of a 
suitor for Roberta. If a jealous feeling at finding 
another person on the ground was the cause of his not 
coming again, it showed that he was in earnest, and 
this, added to the evident disturbance of mind of both 
Roberta and Junius, was enough to give Mr. Brandon 
most serious fears that an obstacle to his cherished 
plan was arising. Roberta was fond of city life, of 
society, of travel, and if she had really made up her 
mind that her union with Junius was no longer to be 
thought of, the advent of a man like Croft, who had 
been making her acquaintance all summer, and who 
had now returned to Virginia no doubt for the sole 
purpose of seeing her again, was, to say the least, ex- 
ceedingly ominous. One thing only could correct this 
deplorable state of affairs. The absurd bar to the 
union of Junius and Roberta should be removed, and 
they should be allowed to enter upon the happiness 
that was their right. 

Above all, the estate of Midbranch should not be 

85 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


suffered to go into the possession of an outsider, who 
might be good enough, but who was of no earthly 
moment or interest to the Brandons. He would go 
himself, and see the widow Keswick, and talk her out 
of her nonsense. It was a long time since he had met 
the old wildcat, as he termed her, and his recollection 
of the last interview was not pleasant ; but he was not 
afraid of her, and he hoped that the common sense of 
what he would say would bring her to reason. 

Mr. Brandon made up his mind during the night ; 
and when he came down to breakfast he was very glad 
to find that Junius had already gone out for a walk. 
The distance to the widow Keswick’s house was about 
fifteen miles, a pleasant day’s ride for the old gentle- 
man, and as he did not expect to return until the 
next day, he felt obliged to inform Boberta of his des- 
tination, although, of course, he said nothing about the 
object of his visit. He told his niece that he was 
obliged to see the widow Keswick on business, to which 
remark she listened without reply. 

Soon after breakfast he mounted his good horse 
Albemarle, and early in the afternoon he arrived at 
the widow Keswick’s gate. He had looked for a 
stormy reception, in which the thunder-bolts of rage 
should burst around him, and he was surprised, there- 
fore, to be received with the frigidity of the North 
Pole. 

“ I never expected,” she said, without any previous 
courtesy, “to see one of your people under my roof, 
and it is not very long ago since I would have gone 
away from it the moment any one of you came near it.” 

“I am happy, madam,” said Mr. Brandon, in his 
most courteous manner, “ that that day is past,” 

86 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ My staying won’t do you any good/’ said the old 
lady, whose purple sunbonnet seemed to heave with 
the uprising of her hair, “ except, perhaps, to get you a 
better meal than the servants would have given you. 
But I want a lawyer, and I can’t afford to pay for one 
either, and when I saw you coming I just made up my 
mind to get something out of you, and if I do it, it’ll 
be the first red mark for my side of the family.” 

Mr. Brandon assured her that nothing would give 
him more pleasure than to assist her in any way in 
his power. 

“Very well, then,” said Mrs. Keswick ; “just sit 
down on that bench, and, when we have got through, 
your horse can be taken, and you can rest awhile, 
though it seems a very curious thing that you should 
want to stop here to rest.” 

“Well, madam,” said Mr. Brandon, seating himself 
as comfortably as possible on a wooden bench, “ I shall 
be happy to hear anything you have to say.” 

The old lady did not sit down, but stood up in front 
of him, leaning on her umbrella, with which faithful 
companion she had been about to set out on her walk. 
“When my son Junius came home awhile ago—” she 
began. 

“ Do you still call him your son ? ” interrupted Mr. 
Brandon. 

“ Indeed I do ! ” was the very prompt answer. 
“ That’s just what he is. And, as I was going to say, 
when he wrote me a short time ago that he was coming 
here, I believed, from his letter, that he had some 
scheme on hand in regard to your niece, and I made 
up my mind I wouldn’t stay in the house to hear 
anything more said on that subject. I had told him 
87 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that I never wanted him to say another word about it ; 
and it made my blood boil, sir, to think that he had 
come again to try to cozen me into the vile compact.” 

“ Madam ! ” exclaimed Mr. Brandon. 

“The next day,” continued Mrs. Keswick, “a lady 
arrived ; and as soon as I saw her drive into the gate 
I felt sure it was Roberta March, and that the two 
had hatched up a plot to come and work on my feel- 
ings, and so I wouldn’t come near the house.” 

“ Madam ! ” exclaimed Mr. Brandon, “ how could 
you dream such a thing of my niece? You don’t 
know her, madam.” 

“No,” said the old lady, “I don’t know her, but I 
knew she belonged to your family, and so I was not to 
be surprised at anything she did. But I found out I 
was mistaken. An old negro woman recognized this 
young person as the daughter of my younger sister— 
you know there were three of us. The child was born 
and raised here, but I have not seen and have scarcely 
heard of her since she was eight years old.” 

“ That’s very extraordinary, madam,” said Mr. 
Brandon. 

“No, it isn’t, when you consider the stubbornness, 
the obstinacy, and the wickedness of some people. My 
sister sickened when the child was about six years old, 
and her husband, Harvey Peyton—” 

“ I have frequently heard of him, madam,” said Mr. 
Brandon. 

“And I wish I never had,” said she. “Well, he 
was travelling most of the time, a thing my sister 
couldn’t do ; but he came here then, and stayed, off 
and on, till she died. And not long afterwards, just 
because I told him that I intended to consider the 
88 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


child as my child, and that she should have the name 
of Keswick instead of his name, and should know me 
as her mother, and live with me always, he got angry 
and flared up, and actually took the child away. I 
gave it to him hot, I can tell you, before he left, and 
I never saw him again. He was so eaten up with rage 
because I wanted to take the little Annie for my own, 
that he filled her mind with such prejudices against 
me that when he died, a year or two ago, she actually 
went to work to get her own living instead of applying 
to me for help. But now she has come down here, and 
I was really filled with joy to have her again and carry 
out the plan on which my heart had long been set— 
that is, to marry her to her cousin Junius, and let them 
have this farm when I am gone—” 

At this Mr. Brandon raised his eyebrows and low- 
ered the corners of his mouth. 

“ But I suddenly discover,” continued the old lady, 
“ that the little wretch is married— actually married.” 

At this Mr. Brandon lowered his eyebrows and raised 
the corners of his mouth. “Did her husband come 
with her ? ” he asked, pleasantly. And he gave a few 
long, free breaths, as if he had just passed in safety a 
very dangerous and unsuspected rock. 

“No, he didn’t,” replied the old lady. “I don’t 
know where he is, and, from what I can make out, he 
is an utterly good-for-nothing fellow, allowing his wife 
to go where she pleases and take care of herself. Now 
this abominable marriage stands square in the way of 
the plan which again rose up in my mind the moment 
I heard that the girl was in my house. If Junius and 
she should marry, there would be no more dangers 
for me to look out for.” 


89 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ But the existence of a husband,” said Mr. Brandon, 
blandly, “ puts an end to all thoughts of such an alli- 
ance.” 

“ No, it don’t,” said the old lady, bringing her um- 
brella down with force on the porch. “ Not a bit of 
it. Such an outrageous marriage should not be suf- 
fered to exist. They should be divorced. He does 
nothing for her, and neglects and deserts her abso- 
lutely. There’s every ground for a divorce, or enough 
grounds, at any rate. All that’s necessary is for a 
lawyer to take it up. I don’t know any lawyers, and 
when I saw you riding up from the road gate I said 
to myself : 1 Here’s the very man I want— and it’s full 
time I should get something from people who have 
taken nearly everything from me.’ ” 

Mr. Brandon bowed. 

“ And now,” continued the old lady, “ I am going to 
put the case into your hands. The man is evidently 
a good-for-nothing scoundrel, and has probably spent 
the little money that her miserable father left her. 
It’s a clear case of desertion, and there should be no 
trouble at all in getting the divorce.” 

Mr. Brandon looked down upon the floor of the 
porch, and smiled. This was a pretty case, he thought, 
to put into his hands. Here was a marriage which was 
the strongest protection in the promotion of his own 
plan, and he was asked to annul it. “Very good,” 
thought Mr. Brandon, “ very good.” And he smiled 
again. But he was an old-fashioned gentleman, and 
not used to refuse requests made to him by ladies. 
“ I will look into it, madam,” said he. “ I will look 
into it, and see what can be done.” 

“ Something must be done,” said the old lady ; “ and 
90 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

the right thing, too. How long do you intend to stay 
here ? ” 

“ 1 thought of spending the night, madam, as my 
horse and myself are scarcely in condition to continue 
our journey to-day.” 

“ Stay as long as you like,” said Mrs. Keswick. “ I 
turn nobody from my doors, even if they belong to 
the Brandon family. I want you to talk to my niece, 
and get all you can out of her about this thing, and 
then you can go to work and blot out this contemptible 
marriage as soon as possible.” 

“ The first thing,” said Mr. Brandon, “ will be to talk 
to the lady.” 

This reply being satisfactory to Mrs. Keswick, Uncle 
Isham was called to take the horse and attend to him, 
while the master was invited into the house. 

Mr. Brandon first met Mrs. Null at supper- time, 
and her appearance very much pleased him. “It is 
not likely,” he said to himself, “that the man lives 
who would willingly give up such a charming young 
creature as this.” They were obliged to introduce 
themselves to each other, as the lady of the house had 
not yet appeared. After a while Letty, who was in 
attendance, advised them to sit down, as “de light 
bread an’ de batterbread was gittin’ cole.” 

“We could not think of such a thing as sitting at 
table before Mrs. Keswick arrives,” said Mr. Brandon. 

“ Oh, dar’s no knowin’ when she’ll come,” said the 
blooming Letty. “She may be h’yar by breakfus’- 
time, but dar ain’t nobuddy in dis yere work kin tell. 
She’s down at de bahn now, blowin’ up Plez fur gwine 
to sleep when he was a-shellin’ de cohn-fiel’ peas. An’ 
when she’s got froo wid him she’s got a bone to pick 
91 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


wid Uncle Isham ’bout de gyardin. ’Tain’t no use 
waitin’ fur ole miss. She nebber do come when de 
bell rings. She come when she git ready, an’ not 
afore.” 

Mr. Brandon now felt quite sure that it was the in- 
tention of his hostess not to break bread with one of 
his family, and so he seated himself, Mrs. Null taking 
the head of the table and pouring out the tea and 
coffee. 

u It has been a long time, madam, since you were in 
this part of the country,” said the old gentleman, as 
he drew the smoking batterbread towards him and 
began to cut it. 

u Yes,” said Mrs. Null ; “ not since I was a little girl. 
I suppose you have heard, sir, that Aunt Keswick and 
my father were on very bad terms, and would not have 
anything to do with each other ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Mr. Brandon ; “ I have heard that.” 

“ But my father is not living now, and I am down 
here again.” 

“ And your husband ? He did not accompany you ? ” 
said Mr. Brandon. 

“ No,” replied Mrs. Null, very quickly. u We were 
both very sorry that it was not possible for him to 
come with me.” 

Mr. Brandon’s spirits began to rise. This did not 
look quite like desertion. “ I have no doubt you have 
a very good husband. I am sure you deserve such a 
one,” he said, with the air of a father and the purpose 
of a lawyer. 

u Good ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Null, her eyes sparkling. 
“ He couldn’t be better if he tried ! Will you have 
sweet milk or buttermilk ? ” 


92 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


u Buttermilk, if you please,” said Mr. Brandon. « Of 
course your aunt was delighted to have you with her 
again.” 

“ Oh,” said Mrs. Null, with a laugh, “ she was not at 
home when I arrived, but when she returned nothing 
could be too good for me. Why, she had been here 
scarcely half an hour, and hadn’t taken off her sun- 
bonnet, before she told me I was to marry Junius and 
we two were to have this farm.” 

“ A very pleasant plan, truly,” said Mr. Brandon. 

“ But then, you see,” continued the young girl, “ Mr. 
Null stood dreadfully in the way of such an arrange- 
ment ; and when Aunt Keswick heard about him you 
can’t imagine what a change came over her.” 

“ Oh, yes, I can ; yes, I can,” exclaimed Mr. Brandon, 
— “I can imagine it very well.” 

“ But she didn’t give up a bit,” said Mrs. Null. 11 1 
don’t think she ever does give up.” 

“You are right, there,” said Mr. Brandon, “ quite 
right. But what does she propose to do ? ” 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure ; but she said I had no right 
to marry without the consent of my surviving rela- 
tives, and that she was going to look into it. I can’t 
think what she means by that.” 

Mr. Brandon made no immediate answer. He gave 
Mrs. Null some damson preserves, and he took some 
himself, and then he helped himself to a great hot roll 
from a plate that Letty had just brought in, and care- 
fully opening it he buttered it on the inside, and 
covered one half of it with the damson preserves. 
This he began slowly to eat, drinking at times from 
the foaming glass of buttermilk at the side of his plate, 
from which the coffee-cup had been removed. When 
93 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


he had finished the half-roll he again spoke : “ I 
think, my dear young lady, that your aunt is desirous 
of having your marriage set aside.” 

“How can she do that?” exclaimed the girl, her 
face flushing. “ Has she been talking to you about it ? ” 

“I cannot deny that she has spoken to me on the 
subject,” he answered, “I being a lawyer. But I will 
say to you, in strict confidence, please, that if you and 
your husband are sincerely attached to each other 
there is nothing on earth she can do to separate you.” 

“ Attached ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Hull. “ It would be 
impossible for us to be more attached than we are. 
We never have had the slightest difference, even of 
opinion, since our wedding-day. Why, I believe that 
we are more like one person than any married couple 
in the world.” 

“I am very glad to hear it,” said Mr. Brandon, 
finishing his buttermilk,— “very glad indeed. And, 
feeling as you do, I am certain that nothing your aunt 
can say will make any impression on you in regard to 
seeking a divorce.” 

“I should think not!” said Mrs. Hull, sitting up 
very straight. “ Divorce, indeed ! ” 

“ I fully uphold you in the stand you have taken,” 
said Mr. Brandon. “ But I beg you will not mention 
this conversation to your aunt. It would only annoy 
her. Is your cousin expected here shortly? ” 

“ I believe so,” she said. “ To be sure, my aunt left 
the house the last time he came, but she has his ad- 
dress, and has written for him. I think she wants us 
to get acquainted as soon as possible, so that no time 
will be lost in marrying us after poor Mr. Hull is dis- 
posed of.” 


94 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Very good, very good,” said Mr. Brandon, with a 
laugh. “ And now, my dear young friend, I want to 
give you a piece of advice. Stay here as long as you 
can. Your aunt will soon perceive the absurdity of 
her ideas in regard to your husband, and will cease to 
annoy you. Make a friend of your cousin Junius, 
whom I know and respeet highly $ and he certainly 
will be of advantage to you. Above all things, en- 
deavor to thoroughly reconcile him and Mrs. Keswick, 
so that she will cease to oppose his wishes, and to 
interfere with his future fortune. If you can bring 
back good feeling between these two, you will be the 
angel of the family.” 

“ Thank you,” said Mrs. Null, as they rose from the 
table. 

The next morning, after Mr. Brandon and Mrs. Null 
had breakfasted together, the mistress of the house, 
having apparently finished the performance of the 
duties which had kept her from the breakfast-table, 
had some conversation with her visitor. In this he 
repeated very little of what he had said to the younger 
lady the night before, but he assured Mrs. Keswick 
that he had discovered that it would be a very deli- 
cate thing to propose to her niece a divorce from her 
husband, a thing to which she was not at all inclined, 
as he had found. 

“Of course not! of course not!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Keswick. “She can’t be expected to see what a 
wretched plight she has got herself into by marrying 
this straggler from nobody knows where.” 

“But, madam,” said Mr. Brandon, “if you worry 
her about it, she will leave you, and then all will be 
at an end. Now, let me advise you as your lawyer. 

95 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Keep her here as long as yon can. Do everything 
possible to foster friendship and good feeling between 
her and Junius ; and to do this you must forget as far 
as possible all that has gone by, and be friendly with 
both of them yourself.” 

“ Humph ! ” said the widow Keswick. “ I didn’t ask 
you for advice of that sort.” 

“It is all a part of the successful working of the 
case, madam,” said Mr. Brandon. “ A thorough good 
feeling must be established before anything else can 
be done.” 

“ I suppose so,” said the old lady. “ She must learn 
to like us before she begins to hate him. And how 
about your niece? Are you going to send her down 
here to help on in the good feeling?” 

“I have not brought my niece into this affair,” 
replied Mr. Brandon, with dignity. 

“Well, then, see that you don’t,” was the widow 
Keswick’s reply. And the interview terminated. 

When Mr. Brandon rode away on his good horse 
Albemarle, he looked at the post of the road gate, from 
which he was lifting the latch by means of the long 
wooden handle arranged for the convenience of riders, 
and said to himself : “ John Keswick was a good man, 
but I don’t wonder he came out here and shot himself. 
It is a great pity, though, that it wasn’t his wife who 
did it, instead of him. That would have been a bless- 
ing to all of us. But,” he added contemplatively, as 
he closed the gate, “ the people in this world who ought 
to blow out their brains never do.” 

Soon after he had gone, Mrs. Hull went up Pine Top 
Hill, and sat down on the rock to have a “think.” 
“ Now, then, Freddy,” she said, “ everything depends 
96 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


on you. If you don’t stand by me I am lost — that is 
to say, I must go away from here before Junius comes ; 
and you know I don’t want to do that. I want to see 
him on my account, and on his account too ; but I 
don’t want him crammed down my throat for a hus- 
band the moment he arrives, and that is just what will 
happen if you don’t do your duty, Mr. Null. Even if 
it wasn’t for you, I don’t want to look at him from the 
husband point of view, because, of course, he is a very 
different person from what he used to be, and is a total 
stranger to me. 

u It is actually more than twelve years since I have 
seen him, and besides that, he is just as good as en- 
gaged to that niece of Mr. Brandon’s, who is a horrible 
mixture of a she-wolf and a female mule, if I am to 
believe Aunt Keswick, but I expect she is, truly, a 
very nice girl. Though, to be sure, she can’t have 
much spirit if she consented to break off her marriage 
just on account of the back -handed benediction which 
Aunt Keswick told me she offered her as a wedding- 
gift. If I had wanted to marry a man I would have 
let the old lady curse the heels off her boots before I 
would have paid any attention to her. Cursing don’t 
hurt anybody but the curser. 

“ What I want of Junius is to make a friend of him, 
if he turns out to be the right kind of a person, and to 
tell him about this Mr. Croft who is so anxious to find 
him. The only person I have met yet who seems like 
an ordinary Christian is old Mr. Brandon, and he’s a 
sly one, I’m afraid. Aunt Keswick thinks he stopped 
here on his way somewhere, but I don’t believe a word 
of it. I believe he came for reasons of his own, and 
went right straight back again. You are almost as 
97 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


much to him, Freddy, as you are to me. It would 
have made you laugh if you could have seen how his 
face lighted up when he heard we were happy together, 
and that I would not listen to a divorce. And yet I 
am sure he has promised Aunt Keswick to see what 
he can do about getting one. He wants me to stay 
here and make friends of Aunt Keswick and Junius, 
but he wouldn’t like that if it were not for you, Mr. 
Hull. You make everything safe for him. 

“And now, Freddy, I tell you again that all de- 
pends upon you. If I’m to stay here— and I want to 
do that, for a time anyway, for although Aunt Kes- 
wick is so awfully queer, she’s my own aunt, and that’s 
more than I can say for anybody else in the world— 
you must stiffen up and stand by me. It won’t do to 
give way for a minute. If necessary you must take 
tonics, and have a steel rod down your back, if you 
can’t keep yourself erect without it. You must have 
your legs padded, and your chest thrown out $ and you 
must stand up very strong and sturdy, Freddy, and 
not let them push you an inch this way or that. And 
now that we have made up our minds on this subject, 
we’ll go down, for it’s getting a little cool on the top 
of this hill.” 


98 


CHAPTER IX 


On the morning of her uncle’s departure from Mid- 
branch, Roberta came out on the porch, and took her 
seat in a large wooden arm-chair, putting down her 
key-basket on the floor beside her. The day was 
bright and sunny, and the shadows of two or three 
turkey -buzzards, who were circling in the air, moved 
over the field in front of the house. In this field also 
moved, not so fast, nor so gracefully as the shadows, 
two ploughs, one near by, and the other at quite a 
distance. The woods which shut out a great part of 
the horizon showed many a bit of color, but the scene, 
although bright enough in some of its tones, was not a 
cheering one to Roberta 5 and she needed cheering. 

Had it not been for the delay of her father in mak- 
ing his winter visit to Hew York, she would now be 
in that city ; but if things had gone on as she expected 
they would, she would have been perfectly satisfied to 
remain several weeks longer at Midbranch. Junius 
Keswick, who had not visited the house for a long 
time, had come to them again ; and, now that the sub- 
ject of love and marriage had been set aside, it was 
charming to have him there as a friend. They not 
only walked in the woods, but they took long rides 
over the country, Mr. Brandon having waived his ob- 
99 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


jections in regard to his niece riding about with gentle- 
men. She had even been pleased with the unexpected 
return of Lawrence Croft, for, for reasons of her own, 
she wished very much to have a talk with him. But 
he had not fulfilled his promise to her, and had gone 
away in a very unsatisfactory manner. 

This morning she felt a little lonely, too, for Junius 
had left the place before breakfast, and she did not 
know where he had gone ; and her uncle had actually 
ridden away to see that horrible widow Keswick, 
merely stating that his errand was a business one, and 
that he would be back the next day. Roberta knew 
that there had been a great deal of business, particu- 
larly that of an unpleasant kind, between the two 
families, but she did not believe that there was any 
ordinary affair concerning dollars and cents which 
would require the presence of her uncle at the house 
of his old enemy. She was very much afraid that he 
had gone there to try to smooth up matters in regard 
to Junius and herself. The thought of this made her 
indignant. She did not know what her uncle would 
say, and she did not want him to say anything. He 
could not make the horrible old creature change her 
mind in regard to the marriage, and if this was not 
done, there was no use discussing the matter at all ; 
and she did not wish people to think she was anxious 
for the match. 

It was plain, however, that her uncle’s desire for it 
had experienced a strong revival ; and the unexpected 
return of Lawrence Croft had probably had a great 
effect on him. He had not objected to the visits of 
that gentleman during the summer, but he had never 
shown any strong liking for him, and Roberta said to 
100 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


herself that she could not see, for her part, why this 
should be ; Mr. Croft was a thorough gentleman, an 
exceedingly well educated and agreeable man. 

As to Junius, she was afraid that he had not the 
spirit which she used to think he possessed. There 
was something about him she could not understand. 
In former days, when Junius was in New York, she 
compared him with the young men there, very much 
to his advantage, but now Mr. Croft seemed to throw 
him somewhat in the background. When Croft wanted 
to do anything he did it $ even his failure to come to 
her when he said he would do so showed strength of 
will. If Junius had promised to come he would have 
come, even if he had not wanted to do so, and there 
would have been something weak about that. 

While she thus sat thinking, and gazing over the 
landscape, she saw afar off, on a portion of the road 
which ran alongside the woods, a vehicle slowly mak- 
ing its way to the house. Roberta had large and beau- 
tiful eyes, but they were not of the kind which would 
enable her to discover at so great a distance what sort 
of vehicle this was, and who was in it. As the road 
led nowhere but to Midbranch, she was naturally de- 
sirous to know who was coming. She stepped into 
the hall, and, taking a small bell, rang it vigorously, 
and in a moment her youthful handmaiden Peggy 
appeared upon the scene. Peggy’s habit of projecting 
her eyes into the far-away could often be turned to prac- 
tical account, for her vision was, in a measure, telescopic. 

u What is that coming here along the road? ” asked 
Miss Roberta, stepping upon the porch, and pointing 
out the distant vehicle. 

Peggy stood up straight, let her arms hang close to 
101 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


her sides, and looked steadfastly forth. “ W ot’s cornin’, 
Miss Rob,” said she, “is de buggy ’longin’ ter Mister 
Michaels, at de Springs, an’ his ole mud-colored hoss 
is haulin’ it. Dem dat’s in it is Mahs’ Junius an’ 
Mister Crof.” 

“ Are you sure of that ? ” exclaimed Miss Roberta, in 
astonishment. “ Look again.” 

“Yaas’m,” replied Peggy. “ I’se sartin shuh. But 
dey jes gwine behin’ de trees now.” 

The road was not again visible for some distance, 
but when the buggy reappeared Peggy gave a start, 
and exclaimed : “ Dar’s on’y one pusson in it now, 
Miss Rob.” 

“Which is it?” exclaimed her mistress quickly, 
shading her eyes and endeavoring to see for herself. 

“ It’s Mister Crof’,” said Peggy. “ Mahs’ Junius mus’ 
done gone back.” 

“ It is too bad ! ” exclaimed Miss Roberta. “ I will 
not see him. Peggy,” she said, snatching up the key- 
basket and stepping towards the hall door, “ when that 
gentleman, Mr. Croft, comes, you must tell him that I 
am up-stairs lying down, that I am not well and can- 
not see him, and that your Master Robert is not at 
home.” 

“Ef Mahs’ Junius come, does you want me ter tell 
him de same thing ? ” 

“ But you said he was not in the buggy,” said her 
mistress. 

“ JSTo’m,” answered Peggy ; “ but p’r’aps he done cut 
acrost de plough fiel’ an’ git h’yar fus’.” 

“ If he comes first,” said Miss Roberta, a shade of 
severity pervading her handsome features, “ I want to 
see him.” And with this she went up-stairs. 

102 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Peggy with her shoes on possessed the stolid steadi- 
ness of a wooden grenadier, for the heaviness of the 
massive boots seemed to permeate her whole being, 
and communicated what might be considered a slow 
and heavy footfall to her intellect. Peggy without 
shoes was a panther on two legs, and her mind, like 
her body, was capable of enormous leaps. Slipping 
off her heavy brogans, she made a single bound and 
stood upon the railing of the porch, and, throwing her 
arm around a post, gazed forth from this point of 
vantage. 

“ Bress my eberlastin’ soul ! ” she exclaimed, “ if 
Mister Crof’ ain’t got ter de road gate, and is a- waitin’ 
dar fur somebody ter come open it ! Does he think 
anybody gwine ter see him all de way from de house, 
and come open de gate? Beckon he don’ know dat 
ole mud-color hoss. He mought git out and let down 
de whole fence, an’ dat ole hoss ’u’d nebber move. 
Bress my soul mo’ p’intedly ! ef Mahs’ Junius ain’t 
cornin’ ’long ter open de gate ! ” 

For a few moments Peggy stood and stared, her mind 
not capable of grasping this astounding situation. 
“ No, he ain’t, nudder ! ” she presently exclaimed, with 
an air of relief. 11 Mahs’ Junius done tole him dat ef he 
want dat gate open he better git down and open it 
hese’f. Dat’s right, Mahs’ Junius ! Stick up ter dat ! 
Dar go Mahs’ Junius into de woods, an’ Mister Crof 
he git out an’ go after him. Dey’s gwine ter fight, 
sartin shuh ! Lordy ! wot fur dey ’low dem bushes 
ter grow ’long de fence ter keep folks from seein’ wot’s 
gwine on ! ” 

There was nothing now to be seen from the railing, 
and Peggy jumped down on the porch. Her activity 
103 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


seemed to pervade her being. She ran down the front 
steps, crossed the lawn, and mounted the stile. Here 
she could catch sight of the two men, who seemed to 
be disputing. This was too much for Peggy. If there 
was to be a fight she wanted to see it $ and, apart from 
her curiosity, she had a loyal interest in the event. 
Down the steps and along the road she went at the 
top of her speed, and soon reached the gate. Her 
arrival was not noticed by any one except the mud- 
colored horse, who gazed at her inquiringly ; and look- 
ing through the bars without opening the gate, Peggy 
had a good view of the gentlemen. 

The situation was a more simple one than Peggy had 
imagined. The road for the last half-mile had been 
an uphill one, and Keswick, as much to stretch his own 
legs as to save those of the horse, had alighted to walk, 
while Lawrence, as in duty bound, had waited for him 
at the gate. Here a little argument had arisen. Kes- 
wick, who did not wish to be at the house, or indeed 
about the place, while Koberta was having her con- 
ference with Mr. Croft, had said that he had concluded 
not to go up to the house at present, but would take 
a walk through the woods instead. Lawrence, who 
thought he divined his reason, felt an honorable indis- 
position to accept this advantage at the hands of a 
man who was, most indisputably, his rival. If they 
went together it would not appear as if he had waited 
for Keswick’s absence to return ; and there would still 
be no reason why he should not have his private walk 
and talk with Miss March. 

At all events, it seemed to him unfair to leave Kes- 
wick at the gate while he went up to the house by 
himself, and the notion of it did not please him at all. 

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Keswick, however, was very resolute in his opposition. 
He objected even to seeing Roberta and Croft together. 
He thought, besides, if he and Croft came to the house 
at the same time it would appear very much as if he, 
Junius, had brought the other, and this was an ap- 
pearance he wished very much to avoid. He had 
walked away, and Lawrence had jumped from the 
buggy to continue the friendly argument, which was 
not finished when Peggy arrived. Almost immediately 
after this event Keswick positively insisted that he 
would go for a walk, and Lawrence reluctantly turned 
towards the vehicle. 

Peggy’s mind was filled with horror. Master Junius 
had been frightened away, and the other man was 
coming up to the house ! She could not stand there 
and allow such a catastrophe. Jerking open the gate, 
she rushed into the road and confronted Keswick. 

“ Mails’ Junius,” she exclaimed, “Miss Rob’s orful 
sick wid her back an’ her j’ints, an’ she say she can’t 
see no kump’ny folks, an’ Mahs’ Robert he done gone 
away ter see ole Miss Keswick. I jes run down h’yar 
ter tell you ter hurry up.” 

Keswick started. “ Where did you say your Master 
Robert had gone ? ” 

“ Ter ole Miss Keswick’s. He went dis mawnin’.” 

Junius turned slightly pale, and, addressing Mr. 
Croft, said : “ Something very strange must have hap- 
pened here ! Miss March is ill, and Mr. Brandon has 
gone to a place to which I think nothing but a matter 
of the utmost importance could take him.” 

“In that case,” said Mr. Croft, “it will be highly 
improper for me to go to the house just now. I am 
very glad that I heard the news before I got there. I 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


will return to the Springs, and will call to-morrow and 
inquire after Miss March’s health. Do not let me de- 
tain you, as your presence is evidently much needed 
at the house.” 

“Thank you,” said Keswick, hurriedly shaking 
hands with him. “ I am afraid something very unex- 
pected has happened, and so beg you will excuse me. 
Good morning.” And passing through the gateway, 
he rapidly strode towards the house, while Lawrence 
prepared to turn his horse’s head towards the Springs. 

But, although Junius Keswick walked rapidly, 
Peggy, who had started first for the house, kept well 
in advance of him. Away she went, skipping, run- 
ning, dancing. Once she stopped and turned, and saw 
that the buggy with the mud-colored horse was being 
driven away, and that Master Junius was coming 
along the road to the house ; then she started off, and 
ran steadily, the rapid show of the light-colored soles 
of her feet behind her suggestive of a steamer’s wake. 
Up the broad stile she went, two steps at a time, and 
down the other side in a couple of jumps $ a dozen 
skips took her across the lawn ; and she bounded up 
to the porch as if each wooden step had been a spring- 
board. She rushed up -stairs, and stood at the open 
door of Miss Roberta’s room, where that lady reclined 
upon a lounge. 

“ Hi, Miss Rob ! ” she exclaimed, involuntarily 
snapping her fingers as she spoke. “Mahs’ Junius 
cornin’ all by hese’f, an’ I done sent de Oder gemman 
clean off, kitin’ ! ” 


106 


CHAPTER X 


Junius Keswick was received by Miss Roberta in 
the parlor. Her face was colder and sterner than he 
had ever seen it before, and his countenance was very 
much troubled. Each wished to speak first, and ask 
questions, but the lady went immediately to the front. 

“ How did it happen that you and Mr. Croft were 
coming here together ? Where had you been ? ” 

“We came from the Green Sulphur Springs, where 

I called on him this morning.” 

“ I thought he was obliged to return immediately 
to the North. What made him change his mind? ” 

“ Perhaps it will be better not to discuss that now,” 
said Junius. 

u I wish to discuss it,” was the reply. u What in- 
duced him not to go ? ” 

“ I did,” answered Junius, looking steadfastly at her. 

II Hid you not wish to see him? ” 

For a moment Miss Roberta did not answer, but her 
face grew pale, and she threw herself back in the chair 
in which she was sitting. “ Never in my life,” she said, 
u have I been subjected to such mortification ! Of 
course I wished him to come, but to come of his own 
accord, and not at my bidding. How do you suppose 
I would have felt if he had presented himself, and 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


asked me what I wished to say to him ? It is an insult 
you have offered me.” 

“ It is not an insult,” said Keswick, quietly. “ It was 
a service of — of affection. I saw that you were an- 
noyed and troubled by Mr. Croft’s failure to keep his 
engagement, and what I did was simply—” 

“ Stop ! ” said Roberta, peremptorily. “I do not 
wish to talk of it any more.” 

Junius stood before her a moment in silence, and 
then he said : “ Will you tell me if my Aunt Keswick 
is ill or dead, and why did Mr. Brandon go there ? ” 

u She is neither,” answered Roberta $ “ and he went 
there on business.” And with this she arose and left 
the room. 

Peggy, who had been in the hall, now made a bolt 
down the back stairs into the basement regions, where 
was situated the kitchen. In this spacious apartment 
she found Aunt Judy, the cook, sitting before a large 
wood fire, and holding in her hand a long iron ladle. 
There was nothing near her which she could dip or 
stir with a ladle, and it was probably retained during 
her period of leisure as a symbol of her position and 
authority. 

Peggy squatted on her heels, close to Aunt Judy’s 
side, and thus addressed her: “Aun’ Judy, ef I tell 
you sumfin, soul an’ honor, hope o’ glory, you’ll nebber 
tell f ” 

“ Hope o’ glory, nebber ! ” said Aunt Judy, turning 
a look of interest on the girl. 

“Well, den, look h’yar. You know Miss Rob she 
got two beaux ; one is Mahs’ Junius, an’ de Oder is de 
gemman wid de speckle trousers from de Horf.” 

u Yes, I know dat,” said Aunt Judy. “ Has dey fit ? ” 
108 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

“ Not yit, but dey wos gwine ter,” said Peggy, “but 
I seed ’em, an’ I tore down de road ter de gate whar 
dey wos gittin 7 ready ter fight, an 7 I jes let dat dar 
Mister Crof 7 know wot low-down white trash Miss Rob 
think he wos, an 7 den he said ef dat war so 7 twa 7 n 7 t no 
use fur ter come in, an 7 he turn roun 7 de buggy an 7 
cl 7 ar 7 d out. Den Mahs 7 Junius he come ter de house, 
an 7 dar Miss Rob in de parlor waitin’ fur him. I stood 
jes outside de do 7 , so’s ter be out de way, but Mahs 7 
Junius he kinder back ag’in 7 de do 7 an 7 shet it. But 
I clap’d my year ter de crack, an 7 I hear eberything 
dey said. 77 

“ Wot dey say? 77 asked Aunt Judy, her mouth open, 
her eyes dilated, and the long ladle trembling in her 
hand. 

“ Mahs 7 Junius he say ter Miss Rob dat he lub her 
better’n his own skin, or de clouds in de sky, or de 
flowers in de fiel 7 wot perish, an 7 dat de Oder man he 
done cut an 7 run, an 7 would she be Miss Junius all de 
res 7 ob der libes forebber an 7 ebber, amen ? 77 

“ Dat wos pow’ful movin’ ! 77 ejaculated Aunt Judy. 
“ An 7 wot did Miss Rob say? 77 

“ Miss Rob she say, * 1 7 cept yo 7 kind offer, sah, wid 
pleasure. 7 An 7 den I hearn ’em cornin’, an 7 1 cut down 
h’yar. 77 

“ Glory ! Hallelujah ! 77 exclaimed Aunt Judy, 
bringing her ladle down upon the brick hearth. “Now 
is I ready ter die when my time comes, fur Mahs 7 Ju- 
nius’ll have dis farm, an 7 de house, an 7 de cabins, an 7 
dey won’t go ter no strahnger from de Norf.” 

“ Amen, 77 said Peggy. “ An 7 Aun 7 Judy, dat ar piece 
ob pie ain’t no ’count to nobuddy. 77 

“You kin hab it, chile,” said Aunt Judy, rising and 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


taking from a shelf a large piece of cold apple-pie, 
“ an 7 bressed be de foots ob dem wot fotch good tidin’s.” 

Junius Keswick did not see Miss Roberta again that 
day, and early in the morning he borrowed one of the 
Midbranch horses, and rode away. He did not wish to 
be at the house when Mr. Croft should come ; and, 
besides, he was very anxious and disturbed in regard 
to matters at the Keswick farm. Of all places in the 
world, why should Mr. Brandon go there ? 

It was not a very pleasant ride that Junius Keswick 
took that morning. He had anxieties in regard to 
what he would meet with at his aunt’s house, and he 
had even greater anxieties as to what he was leaving 
behind him at Midbranch. It was quite evident that 
Roberta was angry with him, and this was enough to 
sadden the soul of a man who loved her as he loved 
her, who would have married her at any moment, in 
spite of all opposition, all threats, all curses. He was 
not in the habit of looking at himself after the manner 
of Lawrence Croft, but on this occasion he could not 
help a little self-survey. Was it a purely disinterested 
motive, he asked himself, that took him over to the 
Springs to bring back Lawrence Croft? Did he not 
believe in his soul that Roberta would never have 
spoken so freely to him in regard to what the gentle- 
man from the North would probably say to her if she 
had not intended to decline that gentleman’s offer? 
And was there not a wish in his heart that this matter 
might be definitely and satisfactorily settled before 
Roberta and Mr. Croft went to New York for the 
winter? He could not deny that this issue to the 
affair had been in his mind ; and yet he felt that he 
could conscientiously assure himself that if he had 
110 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


thought things would turn out otherwise, he still would 
have endeavored to make the man perform the duty 
expected of him by Roberta, in whose service Junius 
always felt himself to be. But, apparently, he had 
not benefited himself or anybody else, except, perhaps, 
Croft, by this service which he had performed. 

It was late in the forenoon when Junius met Mr. 
Brandon returning to Midbranch. In answer to his 
expressions of surprise, Mr. Brandon, who appeared in 
an exceptionally good humor, informed Junius of his 
reasons for the visit to the widow Keswick, and what 
he had found when he arrived there. 

“ Your little cousin,” said he, “is a most charming 
young creature, and on interested motives I should 
oppose your going to your aunt’s house, were it not 
for the fact that she is married, and, therefore, of no 
danger to you. I was very glad to find her there. 
Her influence over your aunt will, I think, be highly 
advantageous, and the first-fruit of it is that the old 
lady will now welcome you with open arms. Would 
you believe it ! she has already announced that she 
wishes to make a match between you and this little 
cousin ; and in order to do so, has actually engaged me 
to endeavor to bring about a divorce between the 
young lady and her absent husband. The widow Kes- 
wick has as many cranks and crotchets in her head as 
there are seeds in a tobacco-pod ; but this is the queer- 
est and the wildest of them all. The couple seem very 
much attached to each other, and nothing can be said 
against the husband except that he did not accompany 
his wife on her visit to her relatives ; and if he knew 
anything about the old lady I don’t blame him a bit. 
Now your course, my dear boy, is perfectly plain. Let 
111 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


your aunt talk as much as she pleases about this 
divorce and your union with the little Annie. It 
won’t hurt anybody, and she must talk herself out in 
time. In the meantime take advantage of the present 
circumstances to mollify and tone down, so to speak, 
the good old lady. Make her understand that we are 
all her friends, and that there is no one in the connec- 
tion who would wish to do her the slightest harm. 
This would be our Christian duty at any time, but it 
is more particularly our duty now. I would like you 
to bring your cousin over to see us before Roberta goes 
away. I invited her to come, and told her that my 
niece would first call upon her were it not for the 
peculiar circumstances. But if the families can be in 
a measure brought together,— and I shall make it a 
point to ride over there occasionally,— if your aunt can 
be made to understand the kindly feelings we really 
have towards her, and can be induced to set aside, even 
in a slight degree, the violent prejudice she now holds 
against us, all may yet turn out well. Now go, my 
boy, and may the best of success go with you. Don’t 
trouble yourself about sending back the horse. Keep 
him as long as you want him.” 

Mr. Brandon rode on, leaving Junius to pursue his 
way. “ It is very pleasant,” thought the young man, 
who had said scarcely a word during the interview, 
“ to hear Mr. Brandon talk about all turning out well, 
but when he gets home he may discover that there is 
something to be done at Midbranch as well as on the 
Keswick place.” 

Mr. Brandon’s reflections were very different from 
those of Junius. It appeared to him that a reconcilia- 
tion between the two families, even though it should 
112 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

be a partial one, was reasonably to be expected. 
That newly arrived cousin was an angel. She was 
bound to do good. A marriage between his niece 
and Junius Keswick was the great object of the old 
gentleman’s heart, and he longed to see the former 
engagement between them reestablished before Ro- 
berta went to New York, where her beauty and at- 
tractiveness would expose his cherished plan to many 
dangers. 

The road he was on led directly north, and it was 
joined about a quarter of a mile above by the road 
which ran through the woods to the Green Sulphur 
Springs. On this road, at a point nearly opposite to 
him, he could see, through the foliage, a horseman rid- 
ing towards the point of junction. Something about 
this person attracted his attention, and Mr. Brandon 
took out a pair of eye-glasses and put them on. As 
soon as he had obtained another good view of the 
horseman he recognized him as Mr. Croft. The old 
gentleman took off his glasses and returned them to his 
vest pocket, and his face began to flush. In his early 
acquaintance with Mr. Croft he had not objected to 
him, because he wished his niece to have company, 
and he had a firm belief in the enduring quality of her 
affection for Junius. But latterly his ideas in regard 
to the New York gentleman had changed. He had 
thought him somewhat too assiduous, and when he had 
unexpectedly returned from the North, Mr. Brandon 
had not been at all pleased, although he had been 
careful not to show his displeasure. This condition of 
things made him feel uneasy, and had prompted his 
visit to the widow Keswick. And now that everything 
looked so fair and promising, here was that man, whom 
113 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


he had supposed to have left this part of the country, 
riding towards his house. 

Mr. Brandon was an easy-going man, but he had a 
backbone which could be greatly stiffened on occasion. 
He sat up very straight on his horse, and urged the 
animal to a better pace, so that he arrived first at the 
point where the roads met. Here he awaited Mr. 
Croft, who soon rode up. The old gentleman’s greet- 
ing was very courteous. 

“ You are on the way to my house, I presume,” he 
said. 

Mr. Croft assured him that he was, and hoped that 
Miss March was quite well. 

“ I have been from home for a little while,” said Mr. 
Brandon, “but I believe my niece enjoys her usual 
health. I have had a long ride this morning,” he 
continued, “and feel a little tired. Would it incon- 
venience you, sir, if we should dismount and sit for 
a time on yonder log by the roadside ? It would rest 
me, and I would like to have a little talk with you.” 

Lawrence wondered very much that the old gentle- 
man should want to rest when he was not a mile from 
his own house, but of course he consented to the pro- 
posed plan, and imitated Mr. Brandon by riding under 
a large tree, and fastening his bridle to a low-hang- 
ing bough. The two gentlemen seated themselves on 
the log, and Mr. Brandon, without preface, began his 
remarks. 

“May I be pardoned for supposing, sir,” he said, 
“ that your present visit to my house is intended for 
my niece ? ” 

Lawrence looked at him a little earnestly, and re 
plied that it was so intended. 

114 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Then, sir, I think I have the right to ask, as my 
niece’s present guardian, and almost indeed as her 
father, whether or not your visit is connected in any 
way with matrimonial overtures towards that lady ? ” 

Not wishing to foolishly and dishonorably deny that 
such was his purpose in going to Midbranch, and feel- 
ing that it would be as unwise to decline answering 
the question as it would be unmanly to resort to sub- 
terfuge about it, Lawrence replied that his object in 
visiting Miss March that day was to make matrimonial 
overtures to her. 

“I think,” said Mr. Brandon, “that you will be 
obliged to me if I make you acquainted with the 
present condition of affairs between Miss March and 
Mr. Junius Keswick.” 

“ Has not their engagement been broken off? ” in- 
terrupted Lawrence. 

“ Only conditionally,” answered the old gentleman. 
“They love each other. They wish to be married. 
With one exception, all their relatives desire that 
they should marry. It would be a union, not only 
congenial in the highest degree to the parties con- 
cerned, but of the greatest advantage to our family 
and our family fortunes. There is but a single obsta- 
cle to this most desirable union, and that is the un- 
warrantable opposition of one person. But I am 
happy to say that this opposition is on the point of 
being removed. I consider it to be but a matter of 
days when my niece and Mr. Keswick, with the full 
approbation of the relatives on either side, will renew 
in the eyes of the world that engagement which I con- 
sider still exists in fact.” 

“If this is so,” said Lawrence, grinding his heel 
115 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

very deeply into the ground, “why was I not told 
of it!” 

“ My dear sir ! ” exclaimed Mr. Brandon, “ have you 
ever intimated to me or to any of my family that your 
intentions in visiting Midbranch were other than those 
of an ordinary friend or acquaintance ! ” 

Lawrence admitted that he had never made any 
such intimation. 

“ Then, sir,” said Mr. Brandon, “ what reason could 
we have for mentioning this subject to you— a subject 
that would not have been referred to now, had it not 
been for your admission of your intended object in 
visiting my house ! ” 

Lawrence had no answer to make to this, but it was 
not easy to turn him from his purpose. “ Excuse me, 
sir,” he said, “ but I think a matter of this sort should 
be left to the lady. If she is not inclined to receive 
my addresses she will say so, and there is an end 
of it.” 

The face of Mr. Brandon slightly reddened, but his 
voice remained as quiet and courteous as before. 
“You do not comprehend, sir, the state of affairs, or 
you would see that a procedure of that kind would 
be extremely ill-judged at this time. Were it known 
that at this critical moment Miss March was addressed 
by another suitor, it would seriously jeopardize the 
success of plans which we all have very much at 
heart.” 

Lawrence did not immediately reply to this crafty 
speech. His teeth were very firmly set, and he looked 
steadfastly before him. “ I do not understand all this,” 
he said presently, “ nor do I see that there is any need 
for my understanding it. In fact, I have nothing to 
116 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


do with it. I wish to propose marriage to Miss March. 
If she declines my offer there is an end of the matter. 
If she accepts me, then it is quite proper that all your 
plans should fall to the ground. She is the principal 
in the affair, and it is due to her and due to me that 
she should make the decision in this case.” 

Mr. Brandon had not quite so many teeth as his 
younger companion, but the very fair number which 
remained with him were set together quite as firmly 
as those of Lawrence had been. He remarked, speak- 
ing very distinctly but without any show of emotion : 
“I see, sir, that it is quite impossible for us to think 
alike on this subject, and there is, therefore, nothing 
left for me to do but to ask you— and I assure you, 
sir, that the request is as destitute of any intention of 
discourtesy as if it were based upon the presence of 
sickness or family affliction — that you will not visit 
my house at present.” 

Lawrence rose to his feet with a good deal of color 
in his face. “ That settles the matter for the present,” 
he said. “ Of course I shall not go to a house which 
is forbidden to me. I wish you good morning, sir.” 
And he stalked to his horse, and endeavored to pull 
down the limb to which its bridle was attached. 

Mr. Brandon followed him. “You must mount be- 
fore you can unfasten your bridle,” he said. “And 
allow me to assure you, sir, that as soon as this little 
affair is settled I shall be very happy indeed to see 
you again at my house.” 

Lawrence, having succeeded in loosening his bridle 
from the tree, made answer with a bow, and galloped 
away to the Green Sulphur Springs. 

Mr. Brandon now mounted and rode home. This 

117 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


was the first time in his life that he had ever forbidden 
any one to visit Midbranch, and yet he did not feel 
that he had been either discourteous or inhospitable. 
“ There are times / 7 he said to himself, u when a man 
must stand up for his own interest ; and this is one of 
the times . 77 


118 


CHAPTER XI 


In the little dining-room of the cottage at the Green 
Sulphur Springs sat that evening Lawrence Croft, a 
perturbed and angry but a resolute man. He had 
been quite a long time coming to the conclusion to 
propose to Roberta March, and now that he had made 
up his mind to do so, even in spite of certain convic- 
tions, it naturally aroused his indignation to find him- 
self suddenly stopped short by such an insignificant 
person as Mr. Brandon, a gentleman to whom, in this 
affair, he had given no consideration whatever. The 
fact that the lady wished to see him added much to 
his annoyance and discomfiture. He had no idea what 
reason she had for desiring an interview with him, but 
whatever she should say to him he intended to follow 
by a declaration of his sentiments. He had not the 
slightest notion in the world of giving up the prosecu- 
tion of his suit ; but having been requested not to come 
to Midbranch, what was he to do ? He might write to 
Miss March, but that would not suit him. In a matter 
like this he would wish to adapt his words and his 
manner to the moods and disposition of the lady, and 
he could not do this in a letter. "When he wooed a 
woman, he must see her and speak to her. To any 
clandestine approach, any whispered conversation 
119 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


beneath her window, he would give no thought. 
Having been asked by the master of the house not to 
go there, he would not go. But he would see her, and 
tell his love ; and, more than that, he would win her. 

That morning, while waiting for the time to ap- 
proach when it would be proper for him to go to Mid- 
branch, he had been reading in a bound volume of an 
old English magazine, which was one of the five books 
the cottage possessed, an account of a battle which had 
interested him very much. The commander of one 
army had massed his forces along and below the crest 
of a line of low hills, the extreme right of his line being 
occupied by a strong force of cavalry. The army 
opposed to him was much stronger than his own, and 
it was not long before the battle began to go very 
much against him. His positions on the left were 
carried by the combined charge of the larger portion 
of the enemy’s forces, and, in spite of a vigorous resist- 
ance, his lines were forced back, down the hill, and 
into the valley. It was quite evident he could make 
no stand, and was badly beaten. Thereupon he sent 
orders to his generals on the left to retreat, in as good 
order as possible, across a small river in their rear. 
While this movement was in progress, and the enemy 
was making the greatest efforts to prevent it, the com- 
mander put himself at the head of his cavalry and led 
them swiftly from the scene of battle. He took them 
diagonally over the crest of the hill, down the other 
side, and then, charging with this fresh body of horse 
upon the rear and camp of the enemy, he swiftly cap- 
tured the general-in-chief, his staff, and the minister 
of war, who had come down to see how things were 
going on. With these important prisoners he dashed 
120 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


away, leaving the acephalous enemy to capture his 
broken columns if he could. 

This was the kind of thing Lawrence Croft would 
like to do. For an hour or more he puzzled his brains 
as to how he should make such a cavalry charge, and 
at last he came to a determination : he would ask 
Junius Keswick to assist him. There was something 
odd about this plan which pleased Croft. Keswick was 
his rival, with the powerful backing of Mr. Brandon 
and a whole tribe of relatives, and it might naturally 
be supposed that he was the last man in the world of 
whom he would ask assistance. But, looking at it from 
his point of view, Lawrence thought that not only 
would he be taking no undue advantage of the other 
in asking him to help him in this matter, but that 
Keswick ought not and would not object to it. If 
Miss March really preferred Croft, Keswick should 
feel himself bound in honor to do everything he could 
to let the two settle the affair between themselves. 
This was drawing the point very fine, but Lawrence 
persuaded himself that if the case were reversed he 
would not marry a girl who had not chosen another 
man simply because she had had no opportunity of 
doing so. He had a strong belief that Keswick was 
of his way of thinking, and before he went to bed 
he wrote his rival a note, asking him to call upon him 
the following day. 

Early the next morning the note was carried over 
to Midbranch by a messenger, who returned, saying 
that Mr. Keswick had gone away, and that his present 
address was Howlett’s in the same county. This piece 
of information caused Lawrence Croft to open his eyes 
very wide. A few days before he had received a letter 
121 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


from Mrs. Null, written at Howlett’s, and now Keswick 
had gone there. He had been very much surprised 
when he found that the cashier had so successfully 
carried on the search for Keswick as to come into the 
very county in Virginia where he was ; and he in- 
tended to write to her that he had no further occasion 
for her services 5 but he had not done so, and here 
were the pursuer and the pursued in the same town, 
or village, or whatever Howlett’s was. He gave Mrs. 
Null credit for being one of the best detectives he had 
ever heard of $ for, apparently, she had not only been 
able to successfully track the man she was in search of, 
but to find out where he was going, and had reached 
the place in question before he did. But he also be- 
rated her soundly in his mind for her over-offieious- 
ness. He had not wished her to swoop down upon the 
man, but only to inform him of his whereabouts. The 
next thing that would probably happen would be the 
appearance of Mrs. Null at the Green Sulphur Springs, 
holding Keswick by the collar. He deeply regretted 
that he had ever intrusted this young woman with the 
investigation, not because he had since met Keswick 
himself, but for the reason that she was entirely too 
energetic and imprudent. If Keswick should find out 
from her that she had been in search of him, and why, 
it might bring about a very unpleasant state of affairs. 

Croft saw now, quite plainly, what he must do. He 
must go to Howlett’s as quickly as possible. Perhaps 
Keswick and the cashier had not yet met, and, in that 
case, all he would have to do would be to remunerate 
the young woman and her husband— for she had in- 
formed him that she intended to combine this business 
with a wedding-tour— and send them off immediately. 

122 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


He could then have his conference with Keswick there 
as well as at the Springs. If any mischief had already 
been done, he did not know what course he might have 
to pursue, but it was highly necessary for him to be 
on the spot as soon as possible. He greatly disliked to 
leave the neighborhood of Roberta March, but his 
absence would only be temporary. 

After an early dinner, he mounted the horse which 
he had hired from his host of the Springs, and, with 
a valise strapped behind him, set out for Howlett’s. 
He had made careful inquiries in regard to the road, 
and after a ride somewhat tiresome to a man not used 
to such protracted horseback exercise, arrived at his 
destination about sundown. When he reached the 
scattered houses which formed, as he supposed, the 
outskirts of the village, for such he had been told it 
was, he rode on, but soon found that he had left Hew- 
lett’s behind him, and that those supposed outskirts 
was the place itself. Howlett’s was nothing, in fact, 
but a collection of eight or ten houses quite widely 
separated from one another, and the only one of them 
which exhibited any public character whatever was 
the store, a large frame building standing a little back 
from the road. Turning his horse, Lawrence rode up 
to the store and inquired if there was any house in the 
neighborhood where he could get lodging for the night. 

The storekeeper, who came out to him, was a very 
little man, whose appearance recalled to Croft the fact 
that he had noticed, in this part of the State, a great 
many men who were extremely tall, and a great many 
who were extremely small, which peculiarity, he 
thought, might assist a physiologist in discovering the 
different effects of hot bread upon different organiza- 

123 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


tions. He was quite as cordial, however, as the big- 
gest, burliest, and j oiliest host who ever welcomed a 
guest to his inn, as he informed Mr. Croft that there 
was no house in the village which made a business of 
entertaining strangers, but if he chose to stop with 
him he would keep him and his horse for the night, 
and do what he could to make him comfortable. 

Lawrence ate supper that night with the store- 
keeper, his wife, and five of his children ; but as he 
was very hungry, and the meal was a plentiful one, 
he enjoyed the experience. 

“I suppose you’re goin’ on to Westerville in the 
mornin’ ? ” said the little host. 

“ Ho,” replied Croft ; “ I am not going any farther 
than this place. Do you know if a gentleman named 
Keswick arrived here recently? ” 

“Why, yaas,” said the man, “if you mean Junius 
Keswick.” 

“Certainly he did,” said Mrs. Storekeeper. “He 
rode through here yesterday, and he stopped at the 
store to see if we had any of that Lynchburg tobacco 
he used to smoke when he lived here. He’s gone on 
to his aunt’s.” 

“Where is that?” asked Croft. 

“ It’s about two miles out on the Westerville road,” 
said the little man. “ If I’d knowed you wanted to see 
him, I’d ’a’ told you to keep right on, and you could 
’a’ stopped with Mrs. Keswick overnight.” 

Lawrence wished to ask some questions about Mrs. 
Hull, but he was afraid to do so lest he might excite 
suspicions by connecting her with Keswick. If the 
latter had gone two miles out of town, perhaps she 
had not yet seen him. 


124 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


The room in which Lawrence slept that night was 
to him a very odd one. It was a long apartment, at 
one end of which was a clean, comfortable bed, a 
couple of chairs, and a table on which was a basin 
and pitcher. At the other end were piles of new-look- 
ing boxes, containing groceries of various kinds, rolls 
of cotton cloth and other dry-goods, and, what at- 
tracted his attention more than anything else, a vast 
number of bright tin cans, bearing on their sides bril- 
liant pictures of tomatoes, peaches, green corn, and 
other preservable eatables. These were evidently the 
reserved stores of the establishment, and they were so 
different from the bedroom decorations to which he 
was accustomed that it quite pleased Lawrence to 
think that with all his experience in life he was now 
lodged in a manner entirely novel to him. As he lay 
awake looking at the moonlight glittering on the sides 
of the multitude of cans, the thought came into his 
mind that this had probably been the room of the 
Nulls when they were here. 

u As this is the only house in the place where travel- 
lers are entertained/ 7 he said to himself, “of course 
they must have come to it. And as they are not here 
now, it is quite plain that they must have gone away. 
I am very glad of it, especially if they left before 
Keswick arrived, for their departure probably pre- 
vented an awkward situation. But I shall ask the 
storekeeper no questions about these people. There 
is no better way of giving inquisitive folk the entree to 
your affairs than by asking questions. Of course there 
was no reason why they should stay here after they 
had successfully traced Keswick to this part of the 
country, and every reason, if they wanted to enjoy 
125 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


themselves, why they should go away. But I can’t 
help being sorry that I did not meet the young woman, 
and have an opportunity of paying her for her trouble, 
and giving her a few words of advice in regard to her 
action, or rather non-action, in this matter. She has 
a fine head for business, but I should like to feel cer- 
tain that she understands that her business with me is 
over.” And he turned his eyes from the glittering 
cans, and slept. 

The next morning Lawrence Croft rode on to Mrs. 
Keswick’s house, and when he reached the second or 
inner gate, he saw, on the other side of it, an elderly 
female, wearing a purple sunbonnet and carrying a 
purple umbrella. There was something very eccentric 
about the garb of this elderly personage, and many an 
inexperienced city man would have taken her for a 
retired nurse, or some other domestic retainer of the 
family ; but there was a steadfastness in her gaze, and 
a fire in her eye, which indicated to Lawrence that 
she was one much more accustomed to give orders 
than to take them. He raised his hat very politely, 
and asked if Mr. Keswick was to be found there. 

If the commander of the army about whom Mr. 
Croft had recently been reading had beheld in the 
earlier stages of the battle a strong, friendly force ad- 
vancing to his aid, he would not have been more de- 
lighted than Lawrence would have been had he known 
what a powerful ally to his cause stood beneath that 
purple sunbonnet. 

“Do you mean Junius Keswick?” said the old 
lady. 

“Yes, madam,” answered Croft. 

“ He is here, and you will find him at the house.” 

126 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


The gate was partly open, and Lawrence rode in. 
The old lady stepped aside to let him pass. 

“Do you want to see him on business ? 77 she said. 

u How did you know he was here ? 77 

u I inquired at Howlett’s, madam . 77 

Mrs. Keswick would have liked to ask some further 
questions, but there was something about Lawrence’s 
appearance that deterred her. 

“ You can tie your horse under that tree over there , 77 
she said, pointing to a spot more trampled by hoofs 
than the old lady wished any other portion of her 
house-yard to be. 

When Lawrence had tied his bridle to a hook sus- 
pended by a strap from one of the lower branches of 
the indicated tree, he advanced to the house ; and a 
very much astonished man was he, to see sitting side 
by side on the porch, Junius Keswick and Mr. Candy’s 
cashier. They were seated in the shade of a mass of 
honeysuckle vines, and were so busily engaged in con- 
versation that they had not perceived his approach. 
Even now Lawrence had time to look at them for a 
few moments before they turned their eyes upon him. 

Equally astonished were the two people on the porch, 
who now rose to their feet. Junius Keswick naturally 
wondered very much why Mr. Croft should come to 
see him here ; and as for the young lady, she was al- 
most as much terrified as surprised. Had this man 
come down from Kew York to swoop upon her cousin? 
Had it been possible that she could have given him 
any idea of the whereabouts of Junius? In her last 
note to him she had been very careful to promise in- 
formation, but not to give any, hoping thus to gain 
time to get an insight into the matter, and to keep her 
127 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


cousin out of danger, if, indeed, any danger threatened. 
But here the pursuer had found Junius in less than a 
day after she had first met him herself. But when she 
saw Junius advance and shake hands in a very friendly 
way with Mr. Croft, her terror began to decrease, al- 
though her surprise continued at the same high-water 
mark ; and Keswick found himself in a flood of the 
same emotion when Croft very politely saluted his 
cousin by name, which salutation was returned in a 
manner which indicated that the parties were ac- 
quainted. 

At first Croft had been prompted to ignore all 
knowledge of the cashier, and meet her as a stranger, 
but his better sense prevented this, for how could he 
know what she had been saying about him ! 

“I was about to introduce you to my cousin,” said 
Keswick, “but I see that you already know each 
other.” 

“ I have had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Null in 
New York,” said Lawrence, to whom the word cousin 
gave what might be called a more important surprise 
than anything with which this three-sided interview 
had yet furnished its participants. He gave a quick 
glance at the lady, and discovered her very steadfastly 
gazing at him. “ I hope,” he said, “ that you and your 
husband have had a very pleasant trip.” 

“Mr. Null did not come with me,” she quietly 
replied. 

Lawrence Croft was a man to whom it gave pleasure 
to deal with problematic situations, unexpected de- 
velopments, and the like $ but this was too much of a 
conundrum for him. That the man whose address he 
had employed this girl to find out should prove to be 
128 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


her cousin, and that she should start on her bridal trip 
without her husband, were points on which his reason 
had no power to work. One thing, however, he 
quickly determined upon : he would have an inter- 
view with Madam Cashier, and have her explain these 
mysteries. She was, virtually, his agent, and had no 
right to conceal from him what she had been doing, 
and why she had done it. 

It was necessary, however, that he should waste no 
time in thoughts of this kind, but should immediately 
state to Mr. Keswick the reason of his visit 5 for it 
could not be supposed he had called in a merely social 
way. “ I wish to speak to you,” he said, 11 on a little 
matter of business.” 

At these words Mrs. Null excused herself, and went 
into the house. Her mind was troubled as she won- 
dered what the business was which had made this New 
York gentleman so extraordinarily desirous to find 
her cousin. Was it anything that would injure 
Junius? She looked back as she entered the door, 
but the object of her solicitude was sitting with a face 
so calm and composed that it showed very plainly he 
did not expect any communication which would be 
harmful to him. 

“ It is a satisfaction,” thought Mr. Croft, “a very 
great satisfaction, that I can enter upon the object of 
my visit knowing that my affairs and my actions have 
not been discussed by this gentleman and Mrs. Null.” 


129 


CHAPTER XII 


Old Mrs. Keswick would willingly have followed the 
strange gentleman to the house in order to know the 
object of his visit, but as he had come to see Junius she 
refrained, for she knew her nephew would not like any 
appearance of curiosity on her part. Her reception 
of Junius had been very different indeed from that she 
had previously accorded him when she declined to be 
found under the same roof with him. How he was 
here under very different auspices, and for him the 
very plumpest poultry was slain, and everything was 
done to make him comfortable and willing to stay and 
become acquainted with his cousin, Mrs. Null. A 
match between these two young people was the present 
object of the old lady’s existence, and she set about 
making it with as much determination and confidence 
as if there had been no such person as Mr. Null. Of 
this individual she had the most contemptible opinion. 
She had never asked many questions about him, be- 
cause, in her intercourse with her niece, she wished, 
as far as possible, to ignore him. Having mentally 
pictured him in various mean conditions of life, she 
had finally settled it in her mind that he was an agent 
for some patent fertilizer — a man of this kind being a 
very obnoxious person to her. This avocation, how- 
ever, constituted in the old lady’s mind no excusable 
130 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


reason for his protracted absence ; and if ever a wife 
was deserted, she believed that her niece Annie was 
such a wife. 

“ If he should stay away much longer/’ she said to 
herself, “ we shall have no more trouble in getting a 
divorce than to have his funeral sermon preached. 
And if there is any talk of his coming here, or of her 
going to him, I’ll put my foot down on that sort of 
thing, if I’ve a foot left to do it with.” 

When she had first perceived the approach of Mr. 
Croft, a fear had seized her that this might be the 
recreant husband, but the gentlemanly appearance of 
the stranger soon dispelled this idea from her preju- 
diced mind. Apart from the fact that she had no 
business at the house with her nephew’s visitor, she 
had positive business in the garden with old Uncle 
Isham, and there she repaired. There was some work 
to be done in regard to a flower-pit, in which some of 
her choicest plants were to be domiciled during the 
winter, and this she wished personally to oversee. 
Although the autumn was well advanced, the day was 
somewhat warm ; and as the pair whom Mr. Croft had 
seen on the porch had been glad to shelter themselves 
in the shade of the honeysuckle vines, so Mrs. Keswick 
seated herself on a little bench behind a large arbor, 
still covered by heavy vines, which stood on the 
boundary line between the garden and the front yard, 
and opened on the latter. This bench, which was 
always shady in the morning, she had had placed there 
that she might comfortably direct the labors of old 
Isham, the boy Plez, or whoever, for the time being, 
happened to be her gardener. 

Mr. Croft did not immediately begin the statement 
131 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of the business which had brought him to see Junius 
Keswick. Several windows of the house opened on 
the porch, and he did not wish what he had to say to 
be heard by any one except the person he was ad- 
dressing. “I desire to talk to you on some private 
matters,” he said. “ Could we not walk a little away 
from the house?” 

“Certainly,” said Junius, rising. “We will step 
over to that arbor by the garden. We shall be quite 
comfortable and secluded there. This is the place,” 
said Junius, as they seated themselves in the arbor, 
“ where, when a boy, I used to come to smoke. My 
aunt did not allow this diversion, but I managed to do 
a good deal of puffing before I was found out.” 

“ Then you used to live here ? ” asked Croft. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Keswick ; “ my parents died when I 
was quite a little fellow, and my aunt had charge of 
me until I had grown up.” 

“Was that your aunt whom I met at the gate? 
There was something about her bearing and general 
appearance which greatly interested me.” 

“She is a most estimable lady,” returned Junius. 
And not wishing further to discuss his relative, he 
added : “ And now, what is it, sir, that I can have the 
pleasure of doing for you ? ” 

“ The matter regards Miss March,” said Croft. 

“ I presumed so,” remarked the other. 

“I will state it as briefly as possible,” continued 
Croft. “In consequence of your visit to me at the 
Springs, I set out, the day before yesterday, to make 
another attempt to call on Miss March, the first one 
having been frustrated, as you may remember, by the 
information we received at the gate in regard to Miss 
132 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


March’s indisposition, which, as I have heard nothing 
more of it, I hope was of no importance.” 

“ Of none whatever,” said Junius. 

“ When I was within a mile or so of Midbranch,” 
continued Croft, “ I met Mr. Brandon, who requested 
me not to come to his house, and, in fact, to cease my 
visits altogether.” 

“ What ! ” cried Keswick, very much surprised. 
“ That is not at all like Mr. Brandon. What reason 
could he have for treating you in such a manner ? ” 

“ The very best in the world,” said Croft. “ Hav- 
ing, as the guardian of his niece, asked me the object 
of my visit to Miss March, and having been informed 
by me that it was my intention to propose matrimony 
to the lady, he requested that I would not visit at his 
house.” 

“ On what ground did he base his objection to your 
visit?” asked Keswick. 

“ He made no objection to me ; he simply stated that 
he did not desire me to come, because he wished his 
niece to marry you.” 

“ Quite plainly spoken,” remarked Keswick. 

“Nothing could be more so,” replied Croft. “I 
could not expect any one to be franker with me than 
he was. He went on to inform me that a match be- 
tween the lady and yourself was greatly desired by 
the whole family connection, with a single exception, 
which, however, he did not name, and while he gave 
me to understand that he had no reason to fear, that, 
so far as the lady was concerned, my proposal would 
interfere with your prospects, still, were it known that 
there was another aspirant in the field, a very unde- 
sirable state of things might ensue. What this state 
133 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of affairs was he did not state, but I presume it had 
something to do with the exceptional opposition to 
which he referred .’ 7 

“ And what did you say to all that? ” asked Junius. 

“ I said very little. When a man asks me not to 
come to his house, I don’t go. But, nevertheless, I 
have fully made up my mind to propose to Miss 
March as soon as I can get an opportunity. I have 
nothing to do with family arrangements or family 
opposition. You have told me that you are not en- 
gaged to her, and I am going to try to be engaged to 
her. She is the one to decide this matter. And now 
I have called upon you, Mr. Keswick, to see if there 
is any way in which you can assist me in obtaining an 
interview with Miss March.” 

“ Don’t you think,” said Junius, “ that it is rather 
cool in you to ask me to assist you in this matter? ” 

“ Not at all,” replied the other. “ If it had not been 
for you I should now be in New York, with no thought 
of present proposals of marriage. But you came to 
me, and insisted that I should see the lady.” 

“That was simply because she had expressed a 
strong desire to see you.” 

“Very good,” said Lawrence. “I tried to go to 
her, as you know, and was prevented. Now all I ask 
of you is to help me to do what you so strongly urged 
me to do. There is nothing particularly cool in that, 
I think.” 

Keswick did not immediately reply. “I am not 
sure,” he said, “that Miss March still wishes to see 
you.” 

“That may be,” replied Croft, speaking a little 
warmly. “ None of us exactly know what she thinks 
134 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


or wishes. But I want to find out what she thinks 
about me by distinctly asking her. And I should 
suppose you would consider it to your advantage, as 
well as mine, that I should do so.” 

“ I have my own opinion on that point,” said Kes- 
wick, u which it is not necessary to discuss at present. 
If I were to assist you to an interview with Miss March 
it would be on the lady’s account, not on yours or 
mine. But apart from the fact that I do not know if 
she now desires an interview, I would not do anything 
that would offend or annoy Mr. Brandon.” 

“ 1 don’t ask that of you,” said Croft, “ but couldn’t 
you use your influence with him to give me a fair 
chance with the lady ? That is all I ask, and, whether 
she accepts me or rejects me, I am sure everybody 
ought to be satisfied.” 

Keswick smiled. “ You don’t leave any margin for 
sentiment,” he said, “ but I suppose it is just as well to 
deal with this matter in a practical way. I do not 
think, however, that any influence I can exert on Mr. 
Brandon would induce him to allow you to address his 
niece if he is opposed to it, and I am sure he would 
have a very strange opinion of me if I attempted such 
a thing. At present I do not see that I can help you 
at all, but I will think over the matter, and we will 
talk of it again.” 

“ Thank you,” said Croft, rising. “ And when shall 
I call upon you to hear your decision? ” 

It was rather difficult for Junius Keswick to answer 
a question like this on the spur of the moment. He 
arose and walked with Croft out of the arbor. His 
first impulse, as a Virginia gentleman, was to invite 
his visitor to stay at the house until the matter should 
135 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


be settled, but be did not know wbat extraordinary 
freak on the part of bis aunt might be caused by sucb 
an invitation. But before be bad decided wbat to say, 
tbey were met by Mrs. Keswick coming from the gar- 
den. Junius thereupon presented Mr. Croft, who was 
welcomed by the old lady with extended band and ex- 
ceeding cordiality. 

“ I am very glad,” she said, “ to meet a friend of my 
nephew. But where are you going, sir? Certainly 
not towards your horse ! You must stay and dine 
with us.” 

Lawrence hesitated. He had no claims on the hos- 
pitality of these people, but he wished very much to 
have an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Hull. “Thank 
you,” he said, “but I am staying down here at the 
village, and it is but a short ride.” 

“ Staying at Howlett’s ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Keswick. 
“ At which hotel, may I ask? ” 

Lawrence laughed. “ I am stopping with the store- 
keeper,” he said. 

“That settles it!” said the old lady, giving her 
umbrella a jab into the ground. “ Tom Peckett’s ac- 
commodations may be good enough for pedlers and 
travelling agents, but they are not fit for gentlemen, 
especially one of my nephew’s friends. You must stay 
with us, sir, as long as you are in this neighborhood. 
I insist upon it.” 

Junius was very much astonished at his aunt’s speech 
and manner. The old lady was not at all inhospitable j 
so far was it otherwise the case that, rather than de- 
prive an objectionable visitor of the shelter of her roof, 
she would go from under it herself ; but he had never 
known her to “ gush ” in this manner upon a stranger. 

136 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


He now felt at liberty, however, to obey his own im- 
pulses, and urged Mr. Croft to stay with them. 

“ You are very kind indeed, 1 ” said Lawrence, “and 
I shall be glad to defer for the present my return to 
my 1 hotel.’ This will give me t’ e additional pleasure 
of renewing my acquaintance with Mrs. Null.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Keswick, “ do you know 
her, too ? And to think of your stopping at Peckett’s ! 
Your home, sir, while you stay in these parts, is here.” 

Before the three reached the house, Mrs. Keswick 
had inquired how long Mr. Croft had known her niece ; 
and had discovered, much to her disappointment, that 
he had never met Mr. Null. 

Shortly after the arrival at the house of the gentle- 
man on horseback, little Plez ran into the kitchen, 
where Letty was engaged in preparing vegetables for 
dinner. 

“Who d’ye think is done come?” he exclaimed. 
“ Miss Annie’s husband ! Jes rid up to de house.” 

“ Dat so ? ” cried Letty, dropping into her lap the 
knife and the potato she was peeling. “Well, truly, 
when things does happen in dis worl’ dey comes all in 
a lump. None ob de fam’ly been nigh de house fur 
ebber so long ; an’ den, ’long comes Mahs’ Junius hisse’f, 
an’ Miss Annie, dat’s been away sence she was a chile, 
an’ ole Mr. Brandon, wot Uncle Isham say ain’t been 
h’yar fur years an’ years ; an’ now Miss Annie’s hus- 
band comes kitin’ up ! An’ dar’s ole Aun’ Patsy wot 
says dat if dat gemman ebber come h’yar she want to 
know it fus’ thing. She was dreffle p’inted about dat. 
An’ now, look h’yar, you Plez, jes you cut round to 
your Aun’ Patsy’s, an’ tell her Miss Annie’s husband’s 
done come.” 


137 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


11 Whar ole miss ? 77 inquired Plez. u She ’sleep ? ” 

“No, she mighty wide awake,” said Letty. “But 
you take dem knives an 7 dat board an 7 brick, an 7 run 
down to de branch to clean ’em. An 7 when you gits 
dar, you jes slip along 7 hind de bushes till you 7 s got 
ter de cohn-fiel 7 , an 7 den you cut 7 cross dar to Aun 7 
Patsy 7 s. An 7 don 7 you stop no time dar, fur if ole miss 
finds you 7 s done gone, she’ll chop you up wid dem 
knives . 77 

Plez was quite ready for a reckless dash of this kind, 
and in less than twenty minutes old Patsy was in- 
formed that Mr. Null had arrived. The old woman 
was much affected by the information. She was un- 
easy and restless, and talked a good deal to herself, 
occasionally throwing out a moan or a lament in the 
direction of her “ son Tom’s yaller boy Bob’s chile . 77 
The crazy-quilt, which was not yet finished, though 
several pieces had been added since we last saw it, 
was laid aside ; and by the help of the above-mentioned 
great-granddaughter the old hair trunk was hauled 
out and opened. Over this hoard of treasures Aunt 
Patsy spent nearly two hours, slowly taking up the 
various articles it contained, turning them over, 
mumbling over them, and mentally referring many 
of them to periods which had become historic. At 
length she pulled out from one of the corners of the 
trunk a pair of very little blue morocco shoes tied 
together by their strings. These she took into her lap, 
and, shortly afterwards, had the trunk locked and 
pushed back into its place. The shoes, having been 
thoroughly examined through her great iron-bound 
spectacles, were thrust under the mattress of her bed. 

That evening Uncle Isham stepped in to see the 
138 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


old woman, who was counteracting the effects of the 
cool evening air by sitting as close as possible to 
the remains of the fire which had cooked the supper. 
She was very glad to see him. She wanted somebody 
to whom she could unburden her mind. 

“ Wot you got to say ’bout Miss Annie’s husband/’ 
she asked, “wot done come to-day?” 

“Was dat him ? ” exclaimed the old man. “ Nobody 
tole me dat.” 

This was true, for the good-natured Letty, having 
discovered the mistake that had been made, had con- 
cluded to say nothing about it, and to keep away from 
Aunt Patsy’s for a few days, until the matter should 
be forgotten. 

“ Well, I ’spec’ Miss Annie’s mighty glad to git him 
back ag’in,” continued the old man, after a moment’s 
reflection. “ He’s right much of a nice-lookin’ gem- 
man. I seed him dis ebenin’ a-ridin’ wid Mahs’ 
Junius.” 

“P’r’aps Miss Annie is glad,” said the old woman, 
“ cos she don’ know. But I ain’t.” 

“ Wot’s de reason fur dat?” inquired Isham. 

“ It’s a pow’ful dreffle thing dat Miss Annie’s hus- 
band’s done come down h’yar. He don’ know ole miss.” 

“ Wot’s de matter wid ole miss? ” asked Isham, in a 
quick tone. 

“She done talk to me ’bout him,” said the old 
woman. “ She done tole me jes wot she think ob him. 
She hate him from he heel up. I dunno wot she’ll do 
to him now she got him. Mighty great pity fur pore 
Miss Annie dat he efer come h’yar.” 

“Ole miss ain’t gwine to do nuffin to him,” said 
Isham, in a gruff and troubled tone. 

139 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Don’ yon b’lieve dat,” said Aunt Patsy. “ When 
ole miss don’ like a pusson, dat pusson liad better look 
out. But I ain’t gwine to be sottin’ h’yar an 7 see 
mis’ry cornin’ to Miss Annie.” 

“ Wot you gwine to do?” asked Isbam. 

“Fse gwine to speak my min’ to ole miss. I’se 
gwine to tell her not to do no kunjerin’ to Miss 
Annie’s husban’. She gwine to hurt dat little gal 
more’n she hurt anybody else.” 

Old Isham sat looking into the fire with a very 
worried and anxious expression on his face. He was 
intensely loyal to his mistress, aware as he was of her 
shortcomings, or rather her long-goings. Although 
he felt a good deal of fear that there might be some 
truth in Aunt Patsy’s words, he was very sure that if 
she took it upon herself to give warning or reproof to 
old Mrs. Keswick, a storm would ensue ; and where 
the lightning would strike he did not know. “ You 
better look out, Aun’ Patsy,” he said. “You an’ ole 
miss been mighty good fr’en’s fur a pow’ful long time, 
an’ now don’ you go gittin’ yourse’f in no fraction wid 
her, jes as you ’bout to die.” 

“ Ain’t gwine to die,” said the old woman, “ till I 
done tole her wot’s on my min’.” 

“ Aun’ Patsy,” said Uncle Isham, after gazing silently 
in the fire for a minute or two, “ dar was a brudder 
wot come up from ’Melia County to de las’ big preach- 
in’, an’ he tole in his sarment a par’ble wot I b’lieve 
will ’ply fus’-rate to dis ’casion. I’se gwine to tell 
you dat.” 

“ Go ’long wid it,” said Aunt Patsy. 

“Well, den,” said Isham, “dar was once a cullud 
angel wot went up to de gate ob heaben to git in. He 
140 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


didn’t know nuffin ’bout de ways ob de place, bein’ a 
strahnger, an’ when he see all de white angels a- 
crowdin’ in at de gate where Sent Peter was a-settin’, 
he sorter looked round to see if dar warn’t no gate 
wot he might go in at. Den ole Sent Peter he sings 
out : 1 Look h’yar, uncle, whar you gwine f Dar ain’t 
no cullud gal’ry in dis ’stablishment. You’s got to 
come in dis same gate wid de Oder folks.’ So de 
cullud angel he come up to de gate, but he kin’er hung 
back till de oders had got in. Jes den’ long comes 
a white angel on hossback, wot was in a dreffle hurry 
to git in to de gate. De cullud angel he mighty p’lite, 
an’ he went up an’ tuk de hoss, an’ when de white 
angel had got down an’ gone in, he went roun’ lookin’ 
fur a tree to hitch him to. But when he went back 
ag’in to de gate, Sent Peter had jes shet it, and was 
lockin’ it up wid a big padlock. He jes looks ober 
de gate at de cullud angel an’ he says : 1 Ho ’mittance 
ahfter six o’clock.’ An’ den he go in to his supper.” 

u An’ wot dat cullud angel do den I ” asked Eliza, 
who had been listening breathlessly to this narrative. 

“ Dunno,” said Isham, “ but I reckon de debbil come 
’long in de night an’ tuk him off. Dar’s a lesson in 
dis h’yar par’ble wot ’u’d do you good to clap to your 
heart, Aun’ Patsy. Don’ you be gwine roun’ tryin’ to 
help Oder people jes as you is all ready to go inter 
de gate ob heaben. Ef you try any ob dat dar foolish- 
ness, de fus’ thing you know you’ll find dat gate shet.” 

“ Is dat your ’Melia County par’ble ? ” asked the old 
woman. 

u Dat’s it,” answered Isham. 

u Reckon dat country’s better fur ’bacca dan fur 
par’bles,” grunted Aunt Patsy. 

141 


CHAPTER XIII 


Lawrence Croft had no idea of leaving the neigh- 
borhood of Rowlett’s until Keswick had made up his 
mind what he was going to do, and until he had had 
a private talk with Mrs. Null ; and, as it was quite 
evident that the family would be offended if a visitor 
to them should lodge at Peckett’s store, he accepted 
the invitation to spend the night at the Keswick 
house j and in the afternoon Junius rode with him 
to Rowlett’s, where he got his valise and paid his 
account. 

But no opportunity occurred that day for a tete-a- 
tete with Mrs. Null. Keswick was with him nearly all 
the afternoon ; and in the evening the family sat to- 
gether in the parlor, where the conversation was a 
general one, occasionally very much brightened by 
some of the caustic remarks of the old lady in regard 
to particular men and women, as well as society at 
large. Of course he had many opportunities of judg- 
ing, to the best of his capacity, of certain phases of 
character appertaining to Mr. Candy’s cashier: and, 
among other things, he came to the conclusion that 
probably she was a young woman who would get up 
early in the morning, and he, therefore, determined to 
do that thing himself, and see if he could not have 
142 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

a talk with her before the rest of the family were 
astir. 

Early rising was not one of Croft’s accustomed habits, 
but the next morning he arose a good hour before 
breakfast-time. He found the lower part of the house 
quite deserted, and when he went out on the porch he 
was glad to button up his coat, for the morning air 
was very cool. While walking up and down with his 
hands in his pockets, and looking in at the front door 
every time he passed it, in hopes that he might see Mrs. 
Null coming down the stairs, he was greeted with a 
cheery “ Good morning ” by a voice in the front yard. 
Turning hastily, he beheld Mrs. Keswick, wearing her 
purple sunbonnet, but without her umbrella. 

“Glad you like to be up betimes, sir,” said she. 
“ That’s my way, and I find it pays. Nobody works 
as well, and I don’t believe the plants and stock grow 
as well, while we are asleep.” 

Lawrence replied that in the city he did not get up 
so early, but that the morning air in the country was 
very fine. 

“ And pretty sharp, too,” said Mrs. Keswick. “ Come 
down here in the sunshine, and you will find it pleas- 
anter. Step back a little this way, sir,” she said, when 
Lawrence had joined her, “and give me your opinion 
of that locust-tree by the corner of the porch. I am 
thinking of having it cut down. Locusts are very apt 
to get diseased inside, and break off, and I am afraid 
that one will blow over some day and fall on the 
house.” 

Lawrence said he thought it looked like a very good 
tree, and it would be a pity to lose the shade it made. 

“ I might plant one of another sort,” said the old 
143 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


lady, “ but trees grow too slow for old people, though 
plenty fast enough for young ones. I reckon I 7 11 let 
it stand awhile yet. You were talking last night of 
Midbranch, sir. There used to be fine trees there, 
though it’s many years since I 7 ve seen them. Have 
you been long acquainted with the family there f ” 

Lawrence replied that he had known Miss March a 
good while, having met her in New York. 

“ She is said to be a right smart young lady, 77 said 
Mrs. Keswick, “well educated, and has travelled in 
Europe. I am told that she is not only a regular town 
lady, but that she makes a first-rate housekeeper when 
she is down here in the country.” 

Lawrence replied that he had no doubt that all this 
was very true. 

“I have never seen her,” continued the old lady, 
“ for there has not been much communication between 
the two families of late years, although they used to 
be intimate enough. But my nephew and niece have 
been away a great deal, and old people can’t be ex- 
pected to do much in the way of visiting. But I have 
a notion,” she said, after gazing a few moments in a 
reflective way at the corner of the house, “that it 
would be well now to be a little more sociable again. 
My niece has no company here of her own sex, except 
me, and I think it would do her good to know a young 
lady like Miss March. Mr. Brandon has asked me to 
let Annie come there, but I think it would be a great 
deal better for his niece to visit us. Mrs. Null is the 
latest comer.” 

Lawrence, speaking much more earnestly than when 
discussing the locust-tree, replied that he thought this 
would be quite proper. 


144 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

u I think I may invite her to come here next week,” 
said Mrs. Keswick, still meditatively and without ap- 
parent regard to the presence of Croft, “ probably on 
Friday, and ask her to spend a week. And, by the 
way, sir,” she said, turning to her companion, “if 
you are still in this part of the country I would be glad 
to have you ride over and stay a day or two while 
Miss March is here. I will have a little party of 
young folks in honor of Mrs. Null. I have done noth- 
ing of the kind for her, so far.” 

Lawrence said he had no doubt that he would stay 
at the Green Sulphur a week or two longer, and that 
he would be most happy to accept Mrs. Keswick’s kind 
invitation. 

They then moved towards the house, but, suddenly 
stopping, as if she had just thought of something, Mrs. 
Keswick remarked : “ I shall be obliged to you, sir, if 
you will not say anything about this little plan of mine 
just now. I have not spoken of it to any one, having 
scarcely made up my mind to it, and I suppose I should 
not have mentioned it to you if we had not been talk- 
ing about Midbranch. There is nothing I hate so 
much as to have people hear I am going to give them 
an invitation, or that I am going to do anything, in 
fact, before I have fully made up my mind about it.” 

Lawrence assured her that he would say nothing on 
the subject, and she promised to send him a note to the 
Green Sulphur, in case she finally determined on hav- 
ing the little company at her house. 

“ Now,” triumphantly thought Croft, “ it matters not 
what Keswick decides to do, for I don’t need his 
assistance. An elderly angel in a purple sunbonnet 
has come to my aid. She is about to do ever so much 
145 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


more for me than I could expect of him, and I prefer 
her assistance to that of my rival. Altogether it is 
the most unexpected piece of good luck.” 

After breakfast there came to Lawrence the oppor- 
tunity of a private conference with Mrs. Null. He 
was standing alone on the porch when she came out of 
the door with her hat on and a basket in her hand, 
and said she was going to see a very old colored woman 
who lived in the neighborhood, who was considered a 
very interesting personage j and perhaps he would like 
to go there with her. Nothing could suit Croft better 
than this, and off they started. 

As soon as they were outside the yard gate the lady 
remarked : “I have been trying hard to give you a 
chance to talk to me when the others were not by. I 
knew you must be perfectly wild to ask me what all 
this meant— why I never told you that Mr. Keswick 
was my cousin, and the rest of it.” 

“ I can’t say,” said Lawrence, “ that I am absolutely 
untamed and ferocious in regard to the matter, but I 
do really wish very much that you would give me 
some explanation of your very odd doings. In fact, 
that is the only thing that now keeps me here.” 

“ I thought so,” said Mrs. Null. “As I supposed 
you had got through with your business with Junius, 
I did not wish to detain you here any longer than was 
necessary.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lawrence. 

“You are welcome,” she said. “And when I saw 
you standing on the porch by yourself, the idea of being 
generous to old Aunt Patsy came into my mind. And 
here we are. Now, what do you want to know first? ” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Croft, “ I would like very much to 
146 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


know how a young lady like you came to be Mr. 
Candy’s cashier.” 

“ I supposed you would want to know that/’ she said. 
“It’s a dreadfully long story, and as it is a strictly 
family matter I had almost made up my mind last 
night that I ought not to tell it to you at all ; but as I 
don’t know how much you are mixed up with the 
family, I afterwards thought it best, for my own sake, 
to explain the matter to you. So I will give you the 
principal points. My mother was a sister of Mrs. Kes- 
wick, and Junius’s mother was another sister. Both 
his parents died when he was a boy, and Aunt Keswick 
brought him up. My mother died here when I was 
quite small, and I stayed until I was eight years old. 
Aunt Keswick and my father were not very good 
friends, and when she came to look upon me as en- 
tirely her own child, and wished to deprive him of all 
rights and privileges as a parent, he resented it very 
much, and at last took me away. I don’t remember 
exactly how this was done, but I know there was a 
tremendous quarrel, and my father and aunt never 
met again. 

“He took me to New York; and there we lived 
very happily until about two years ago, when my 
father died. He was a lawyer by profession, but at 
that time held a salaried position in a railroad com- 
pany, and when he died, of course our income ceased. 
The money that was left did not last very long, and 
then I had to decide what I was to do. It would have 
been natural for me to go to my only relatives, Aunt 
Keswick and Junius. But my father had been so 
opposed to my aunt having anything to do with me 
that I could not bear to go to her. He had really 
147 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


been so much afraid that she would try to win me 
away from him, or in some way gain possession of me, 
that he would not even let her know our address, and 
never answered the few letters from her which reached 
him, and which, he told me, were nothing but demands 
that her sister’s child should be given back to her. 
Junius had written to me, how many times I do not 
know, but two letters had come to me that were very 
good and affectionate, quite different from my aunt’s ; 
but even these my father would not let me answer ; it 
would be all the same thing, he said, as if I opened 
communication with my Aunt Keswick. 

“ Therefore, out of respect to my father, and also in 
accordance with my own wishes, I gave up all idea of 
coming down here, and went to work to support my- 
self. I tried several things, and at last, through a 
friend of my father, who was a regular customer of 
Mr. Candy, I got the position of cashier in the Informa- 
tion Shop. It was an awfully queer place, but the 
work was very easy, and I soon got used to it. Then 
you came making inquiries for an address. At first I 
did not know that the person you wanted was Junius 
Keswick, and my cousin, but after I began to look into 
the matter I found that it must be he who you were 
after. Then I became very much troubled, for I liked 
Junius, who was the only one of my blood whom I had 
any reason to care for; and when one sees a person 
setting a detective— for it is all the same thing— upon 
the track of another person, one is very apt to think 
that some harm is intended to the person that is being 
looked up. I did not know what business Junius was 
in, nor what his condition was, but even if he had been 
doing wrong, I did not wish you to find him until I 
148 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


had first seen him, and then, if I found you could do 
him any harm, I would warn him to keep out of your 
way.” 

“Do you think that was fair treatment of me?” 
asked Croft. 

“You were nothing to me, and Junius was a great 
deal,” she answered. “And yet I think I was fair 
enough. The only money you paid was what Mr. 
Candy charged ; and when I spoke of receiving money 
for my services when the affair was finished I only 
did it that it might all be more businesslike, and that 
you should not drop me and set somebody else looking 
after Junius. That was the great thing I was afraid 
of, so I did all I could to make you satisfied with me.” 

“ I don’t see how your conscience could allow you 
to do all this,” said Croft. 

“My conscience was very much pleased with me,” 
was the answer. “What I did was a stratagem, and 
perfectly fair, too. If I had found that it was right for 
you to see Junius, I would have done everything I could 
to help you communicate with him. But when I did 
at last see him, down you swooped upon us before I 
had an opportunity of saying a word about you.” 

“Your marriage was a very fortunate thing for 
you,” said Mr. Croft, “ for if it had not been for that I 
should never have allowed you to go about the country 
looking up a gentleman in my behalf. But how did 
you get over your repugnance to your aunt ? ” 

“ I didn’t get over it,” she said ; “ I conquered it, for 
I found that this was the most likely place to meet 
Junius. And Aunt Keswick has certainly treated me 
in the kindest manner, although she is very angry 
about Mr. Null. But when I first came, and she did 
149 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


not know who I was, she behaved in the most extraor- 
dinary manner.” 

“ What did she do?” asked Croft. 

“ Never you mind,” she answered, with a little laugh. 
“ You can’t expect to know all the family affairs.” 

They had now arrived at Aunt Patsy’s cabin, and 
Mrs. Null entered, followed at a little distance by 
Croft. The old woman had seen them as they were 
walking along the road, and her little black eyes 
sparkled with peculiar animation behind her great 
spectacles. Her granddaughter happened not to be 
at home, but Aunt Patsy got up, and with her apron 
rubbed off the bottoms of two chairs, which she placed 
in convenient positions for her expected visitors. 
When they came in they found her in a very per- 
turbed condition. She answered Mrs. Null’s questions 
with a very few words and a great many grunts, and 
kept her eyes fixed nearly all the time upon Mr. Croft, 
endeavoring to find out, perhaps, if he had yet been 
subjected to any kind of conjuring. 

When all the questions which young people gener- 
ally put to old servants had been asked by Mrs. Null, 
and Croft had made as many remarks as might have 
been expected of him in regard to the age and recol- 
lections of this interesting old negress, Aunt Patsy 
began to be much more disturbed, fearing that the in- 
terview was about to come to an end. She actually got 
up and went to the back door to look for Eliza. 

“Do you want her?” anxiously inquired Mrs. Null, 
going to the old woman’s side. 

“Yaas, I wants her,” said Aunt Patsy. “I ’spec’ 
she at Aggy’s house,— dat cabin ober dar,— but I can’t 
holler loud ’nuf to make her h’yere me.” 

150 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ I’ll run over there and tell her you want her,” said 
Mrs. Null, stepping out of the door. 

“Dat’s a good chile,” said Aunt Patsy, with more 
warmth than she had yet exhibited. “ Dat’s your own 
mudder’s good chile ! ” And then she turned quickly 
into the room. 

Croft had risen as if he were about to follow Mrs. 
Null, or, at least, to see where she had gone. But 
Aunt Patsy stopped him. “ Jes you stay h’yar one 
little minute,” she said hurriedly. “ I got one word 
to say to you, sah.” And she stood up before him as 
erect as she could, fixing her great spectacles directly 
upon him. “ You look out, sah, fur ole miss,” she said, 
in a voice naturally shrill, but now heavily handi- 
capped by age and emotion ; “ ole Miss Keswick, I 
means. She boun’ to do you harm, sah. She tole me 
so wid her own mouf.” 

“ Mrs. Keswick ! ” exclaimed Croft. “ Why, you 
must be mistaken, good aunty. She can have no ill 
feelings towards me.” 

“Don’ you b’lieve dat!” said the old woman. 
“ Don’ you b’lieve one word ob dat ! She hate you, 
sah, she hate you ! She not gwine to tell you dat. 
She make you think she like you fus’-rate, an’ den de 
nex’ thing you knows, she kunjer you, an’ shribble up 
de siners ob your legs, an’ gib you mis’ry in your back, 
wot you nebber git rid ob no mo’. Can’t tell you 
nuffin else now, for h’yar comes Miss Annie,” she 
added hurriedly, and, stepping to the bedside, she 
drew from under the mattress a pair of little blue 
shoes, tied together by their strings. “Jes you take 
dese h’yar shoes,” she said, “ an’ ef ebber you think ole 
miss gwine to kunjer you, jes you hoi’ up dem shoes 
151 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


right afore her face. Dar, now, stuff ’em in your 
pocket. Doff you tell Miss Annie wot I done say to 
you. ’Member dat, sah. It 7 ffd kill her, shuh.” 

At this moment Mrs. Null entered, just as the shoes 
had been slipped into the side-pocket of Mr. Croft’s 
coat by the old woman. And as she did so she whis- 
pered, in a tone that could not but have its effect upon 
him, “ Now, nebber tell her, honey.” 

“ Here is Eliza,” said Mrs. Null, as she came in, fol- 
lowed by the great-granddaughter. “ And I think,” 
she said to Mr. Croft, “it is time for us to go. Good- 
by, Aunt Patsy. You can send back the basket by 
Eliza.” 

When the two left the cabin, Croft walked thought- 
fully for a few moments, wondering what in the world 
the old woman could have meant by her strange words 
and gift to him. Concluding, however, that they could 
have been nothing but the drivellings of weak-minded 
old age, he dismissed them from his min,d and turned 
his attention to his companion. “We were speak- 
ing,” he said, “of Mr. Null. Do you expect him 
shortly?” 

“ Well, no,” said the lady. “ I can’t say that I do.” 

“ That is odd,” said Lawrence. “ I thought this was 
your wedding-journey.” 

“ So it is, in a measure,” said she, “ but there is no 
necessity of his coming here. Didn’t I tell you that 
my aunt was opposed to the marriage ? ” 

“But she might as well make up her mind to it 
now,” he said. 

“ She is not in the habit of making up her mind to 
things she doesn’t like. Do you know,” she added, look- 
ing around with a half-smile, as if she took pleasure in 
152 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


astonishing him, “ that Aunt Keswick is going to try 
to have us divorced 1 ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Croft. “ Divorced ! Is there 
any ground for it? ” 

“ She has other matrimonial plans for me, that’s all.” 

“ What an extraordinary individual she must be ! ” 
he exclaimed. “ But she can never carry out such a 
ridiculous scheme as that.” 

“I don’t know,” she said. “She has already con- 
sulted Mr. Brandon on the subject.” 

“ What nonsense ! ” cried Croft. “ If you and Mr. 
Null are satisfied, nobody else has anything to do 
with it.” 

“ Mr. Null and I are of one mind,” said she, “ and 
agree perfectly. But don’t you think it is a terrible 
thing to know you must always face an irritated aunt ? ” 

“ Oh,” said Croft, looking around at her very coldly 
and sternly, “ 1 begin to see. I suppose a separation 
would improve your prospects in life. But it can’t be 
done if your husband is opposed to it.” 

“ Mr. Croft,” said the lady, her face flushing a good 
deal, “ you have no right to speak to me in that way, 
and attribute such motives to me. No matter whom 
I had married, I would never give him up for the sake 
of money, or a farm, or anything you think my aunt 
could give me.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said Croft, “ if I made a mis- 
take, but I don’t see what else I could infer from your 
remarks.” 

“My remarks,” said she, “were— well, they have a 
different meaning from what you supposed.” She 
walked on in silence for a few moments, and then, 
looking up to her companion, she said : “ I have a 
153 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


great mind to tell you something, if you will promise, 
at least for the present, not to breathe it to a living 
soul.” 

Instantly the lookout on the bow of Lawrence Croft’s 
life action called out : “ Breakers ahead ! ” and almost 
instantly its engine was stopped, and every faculty of 
its commander was on the alert. “ I do not know,” he 
said, “that I am entitled to your confidence. Would 
it be of any advantage to you to tell me what you 
propose ? ” 

“ It would be of advantage, and you are entitled,” 
she added quickly. “It is about Mr. Null, and you 
ought to know it, for you instigated my wedded life.” 

“ I instigated ! ” exclaimed Mr. Croft. And then 
he stopped short, both in his speech and walk. 

“Yes,” said the lady, stopping also, and turning to 
face him, “you did, and you ought to remember it. 
You said if I had a husband to travel about with me 
you would like very much to employ me in the search 
for Mr. Keswick, and it was solely on that account 
that I went and got married.” 

Observing the look of blank and utter amazement 
on his face, she smiled, and said : “ Please don’t look so 
horribly astonished. Mr. Null is void.” 

As she made this remark the lady looked up at her 
companion with a smile and an expression of curiosity 
as to how he would take the announcement. Law- 
rence gazed blankly at her for a moment, and then 
he broke into a laugh. “You don’t mean to say,” he 
exclaimed, “that Mr. Null is an imaginary being?” 

“Entirely so,” she replied. “My dear Freddy is 
nothing but a fanciful idea, with no attribute whatever 
except the name.” 


154 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ You are a most extraordinary young person/ 7 said 
Lawrence,— “ almost as extraordinary as your aunt. 
What in the world made you think of doing such a 
thing? and why do you wish to keep up the delusion 
among your relatives, even so far as to drive your aunt 
to the point of getting you divorced from your airy 
husband ? 77 And he laughed again. 

“ I told you how I came to think of it, 77 she said, as 
they walked on again. “ It was very plain that if I 
wanted to travel about as your agent I must be mar- 
ried, and I have found a husband quite a protection 
and an advantage, even when he doesn 7 t go about with 
me 5 and as to keeping up the delusion, as you call it, 
in my own family, I have found that to be absolutely 
necessary, at least for the present. My aunt, even 
when I was a little girl, determined to take my mar- 
riage into her own hands ; and since I have returned 
to her, this desire has come up again in the most 
astonishing way. It is her principal subject of con- 
versation with me. Were it not for the protection 
which my dear Freddy Null gives me I should be 
thrown bodily into the arms of the person whom my 
aunt has selected, and he would be obliged to take me, 
whether he wanted to or not, or be cast forth forever. 
So you see how important it is that my aunt should 
think I am married ; and I do hope you will not tell 
anybody about Mr. Null. 77 

“Of course I will keep your secret, 77 said Croft; 
“you may rely upon that. But don 7 t you think— do 
you believe that this sort of thing is altogether right? 77 

She did not answer for a few moments, and then 
she said : “I suppose you must consider me a very 
deceptive sort of person, but you should remember 
155 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that these things were not done for my own good, and, 
as far as I can see, they were the only things that could 
be done. Do you suppose I was going to let you 
pounce down on my cousin and do him some injury? 
For, as you kept your object such a secret, I did not 
suppose it could be anything but an injury you in- 
tended him/’ 

“ A fine opinion of me ! ” said Croft. 

“ And then, do you suppose,” she continued, “ that 
I would allow my aunt to quarrel with Junius and 
disinherit him, as she says she will should he decline 
to marry me ? I expected to drop my married name 
when I came here, but I had not been with my aunt 
fifteen minutes before I saw that it would never do for 
me to be a single woman while I stayed with her ; and 
so I kept my Freddy by me.* I did not intend, at all, 
to tell you all these things about my cousin, and I only 
did it because I did not wish you to think that I was 
a sly, mean creature, deceiving others for my own 
good.” 

“Well,” said Croft, “although I can’t say you are 
right in making your relatives believe you are married 
when you are not, still, I see you had very fair reasons 
for what you did, and you certainly showed a great 
deal of ingenuity and pluck in carrying out your re- 
markable schemes. By the way,” he continued, some- 
what hesitatingly, “ I am in your debt for your ser- 
vices to me.” 

“ Not a bit of it ! ” she exclaimed quickly. “ I never 
did a thing for you. It was all for myself, or, rather, 
for my cousin. The only money due was that which 
you paid to Mr. Candy before I took charge of the 
matter.” 


156 


THE LATE MRS NULL 

Lawrence felt that this was rather a sore subject 
with his companion, and he dropped it. “ Do you still 
hold the position of cashier in the Information Shop f ” 

u No,” she said. “ When I started out on my lonely 
wedding-tour I gave up that, and if I should go back 
to New York, I do not think I should want to take it 
again.” 

“ Do you propose soon to return to New York? ” he 
asked. 

“No; at least, I have made no plans in regard to it. 
I think it would grieve my aunt very much if I were 
to go away from her now, and as long as I have Mr. 
Null to protect me from her matrimonial schemes, I 
am glad to stay with her. She is very kind to me.” 

“ I think you are entirely right in deciding to stay 
here,” he said, looking around at her, and contrasting 
in his mind the bright-faced and somewhat plump 
young person walking beside him with the thin-faced 
girl in black whom he had seen behind the cashier’s 
desk. 

“Now,” said she, with a vivacious little laugh, “I 
have poured out my whole soul before you, and, in re- 
turn, I want you to gratify a curiosity which is fairly 
eating me up. Why were you so anxious to find my 
cousin Junius? And how did you happen to come 
here the very day after he arrived ? And, more than 
that, how was it that you had seen him at Midbranch 
so recently? You were talking about it last night. 
It couldn’t have been my letter from Howlett’s that 
brought you down here ? ” 

11 No,” said Lawrence ; “ my meeting with Mr. Kes- 
wick at Midbranch was entirely accidental. When 
I arrived there, a few days ago, I had no reason to 
157 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


suppose that I should meet him. But I must ask you 
to excuse me from giving my reasons for wishing to 
find your cousin, and for coming to see him here. 
The matter between us has now become one of no im- 
portance, and will be dropped.” 

The lady’s face flushed. “ Oh, indeed ! ” she said. 
And during the short remainder of their walk to the 
house she made no further remark. 


158 


CHAPTER XIV 


When Lawrence and his companion reached the house, 
they found on the porch Mrs. Keswick and her 
nephew ; and after a little general conversation, the 
latter remarked to Mr. Croft that he had found it 
would not be in his power to attend to that matter he 
had spoken of; to which Croft replied that he was 
very much obliged to him for thinking of it, and that 
it was of no consequence at all, as he would probably 
make other arrangements. He then stated that he 
would be obliged to return to the Green Sulphur 
Springs that day, and that, as it was a long ride, he 
would like to start as soon as his horse could be 
brought to him. But this procedure was condemned 
utterly by the old lady, who insisted that Mr. Croft 
should not leave until after dinner, which meal should 
be served earlier than usual in order to give him 
plenty of time to get to the Springs before dark ; and 
as Lawrence had nothing to oppose to her very urgent 
protest, he consented to stay. Before dinner was ready 
he found out why the protest was made. The old lady 
took him aside and made inquiries of him in regard to 
Mr. Hull. He had already informed her that he was 
not acquainted with that gentleman ; but she thought, 
as Mr. Croft seemed to be going about the country a 
159 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


good deal, he might possibly meet with her niece's 
husband, and, if he should do so, she would be very 
glad to have him become acquainted with him. 

To this Lawrence replied with much gravity that he 
would be happy to do so. 

“ Mr. Null has not yet come to my house," said Mrs. 
Keswick, “and it is very natural that one should 
desire to know the husband of her only niece, who is, 
or should be, the same as a daughter to her." 

“ A very natural wish, indeed," said Lawrence. 

“ I am not quite sure in what business Mr. Null is 
engaged," she continued, “and although I asked my 
niece about it, she answered in a very evasive way, 
which makes me think his occupation is one she is 
not proud of. I have reason to suppose, however, 
that he is an agent for the sale of some fertilizing 
compound." 

At this Lawrence could not help smiling very 
broadly. 

“It may appear very odd and ridiculous to you," 
she said, “that a person connected with my family 
should be engaged in a business like that, for those 
fertilizers, as you ought to know, are all humbugs of 
the vilest kind. The only time I bought any it took 
my whole wheat crop to pay for it, and as for the 
clover I got afterwards, a grasshopper could have eaten 
the whole of it. I am afraid he didn’t tell her his 
business before he married her, and I’m glad she’s 
ashamed of it. As far as I can find out, it does not 
seem as if Mr. Null has any intention of coming here 
for some time ; and, as I said before, I do very much 
want to know something about him— that is, from a 
disinterested outsider. One cannot expect a recently 
160 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


married young woman to give a correct account of 
her husband.” 

“I do not believe,” said Mr. Croft, “that there is 
any probability that I shall ever meet the gentleman 
—our walks in life being so different.” 

“ I should hope so, indeed ! ” interrupted Mrs. Kes- 
wick. “But people of all sorts do run across each 
other.” 

“ But if I do meet with him,” he continued, “ I shall 
take great pleasure in giving you my impressions by 
letter, or in person, of your nephew-in-law.” 

“ Don’t call him that ! ” exclaimed the old lady, with 
much asperity. “ I don’t acknowledge the title. But 
I won’t say any more about him,” with a grim smile, 
“ or you may think I don’t like him.” 

“ Some of these days,” he said, “ you may come to 
be of the opinion that he is exactly the husband you 
would wish your niece to have.” 

“ Never ! ” she cried. “ If he were an angel in 
broadcloth. But I mustn’t talk about these things. 
I mentioned Mr. Null to you because you are the only 
person of my acquaintance who, I suppose, is likely to 
meet with him. In regard to that little company I 
spoke of to you, I have not quite made up my mind 
about it, and therefore haven’t mentioned it ; but if 
I carry out the plan I will write to you at the Springs, 
and shall certainly expect you to be one of us.” 

“That would give me great pleasure,” said Law- 
rence, in a tone which indicated to the quick brain of 
the old lady that he would like to make a condition, 
but was too polite to do so. 

“ If Miss March should agree to come,” she said, “ it 
might be pleasant for you to make one of her party 
161 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


and ride over at the same time. However, I’ll let you 
know if she is coming, and then you can join her or 
not, as suits your convenience.” 

u Thank you very much,” said Lawrence, in a tone 
which betrayed no reserves. 

As he rode away that afternoon, Lawrence Croft, as 
his habit was on such occasions, revolved in his mind 
what he had heard and said and done during this 
little visit to the Keswick family. u Nothing could 
have turned out better,” he thought. “ To be sure, the 
young man could not or would not be of any assistance 
to me, which is probably what I ought to have ex- 
pected; but the strong-tempered old lady, his aunt, 
promises to be of tenfold more service than he could 
possibly be. As to that very odd young lady, Mrs. 
Keswick’s niece, I imagine that she does not regard me 
very favorably, for she was quite cool after I refused 
to let her into the secret of my desire to find her 
cousin ; but as I did not ask for her confidences, she 
had no right to expect a return for them. And, by 
the way, it’s odd how many confidences have been 
reposed in me since I’ve been down here. Keswick 
begins it ; then old Brandon takes up the strain ; after 
that Mr. Candy’s ex-cashier tells me the story of her 
life, and intrusts me with the secret of her marriage 
with a man of wind— that most useful Mr. Null ; after 
that, her aunt makes me understand how much she 
hates Mr. Null, and how she would like me to find 
out something disreputable about him ; and then— by 
George ! I forgot the old negro woman in the cabin ! ” 
At this he put his hand in the side-pocket of his coat 
and drew out the pair of little blue shoes. “ Why in 
the name of common sense did the old hag give me 
162 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


these? And why should she suppose that Mrs. Kes- 
wick intended me a harm? The old lady never saw 
or heard of me until yesterday, and her manner cer- 
tainly indicated no dislike of me. But, of course, 
Aunt Patsy’s brain is cracked, and she didn’t know 
what she was talking about. I shall keep the shoes, 
however, and if ever the venerable purple sunbonnet 
runs afoul of me, I shall hold them up before it and 
see what happens.” 

And so, very well satisfied with the result of his 
visit to Howlett’s, he rode on to the Green Sulphur 
Springs. 

On the afternoon of the next day Miss March re- 
ceived an invitation from Mrs. Keswick to spend a 
few days with her, and make the acquaintance of her 
niece who had recently returned to the home of her 
childhood. The letter, for it was much more than a 
note of invitation, was cordial, and in parts pathetic. 
It dwelt upon the sundered pleasant relations of the 
two families, and expressed the hope that Mr. Bran- 
don’s visit to her might be the beginning of a renewal 
of the old intimacy. Mrs. Keswick took occasion to 
incidentally mention that the house would be particu- 
larly dull for her niece just now, as Junius was on the 
point of starting for Washington, where he would be 
detained some weeks on business ; and she hoped most 
earnestly that Miss Roberta would accept this invita- 
tion to make her acquaintance and that of her niece ; 
and she designated Thursday of the following week as 
the day on which she would like her to come. 

As may reasonably be supposed, this letter greatly 
astonished Miss March, who carried it to her uncle, 
and asked him to explain, if he could, what it meant. 

163 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


The old, gentleman was a good deal surprised when he 
read it 5 but it delighted him in a far greater degree. 
He perceived in it the first-fruits of his diplomacy. 
Mrs. Keswick saw that it would be to her interest, for 
a time at least, to make friends with him ; and this 
was the way she took to do it. She would not come 
to Midbranch herself, and bring the niece, but she 
would have Roberta come to her. In the pathos and 
cordiality Mr. Brandon believed not at all. What 
the old hypocrite probably wanted was to enlist his 
grateful sympathy in that ridiculous divorce case. 
But, whatever her motives might be, he would be 
very glad to have his niece go to her ; for if anything 
could make an impression upon that time-hardened 
and seasoned old chopping-block of a woman, it was 
Roberta’s personal influence. If Mrs. Keswick should 
come to know Roberta, that knowledge would do more 
than anything else in the world to remove her objec- 
tions to the marriage he so greatly desired. 

He said nothing of all this to his niece ; but he most 
earnestly counselled her to accept the invitation and 
make a visit to the two ladies. Of course Roberta 
did not care to go, but as her uncle appeared to take 
the matter so much to heart, she consented to gratify 
him, and wrote an acceptance. She found, also, when 
she had thought more on the matter, that she had a 
good deal of curiosity to see this Mrs. Keswick, of 
whom she had heard so much, and who had had such 
an important influence on her life. 


164 


CHAPTER XY 

On the afternoon of the day on which Mrs. Keswick’s 
letter arrived at Midbranch, Peggy had great news to 
communicate to Aunt Judy, the cook : “ Miss Rob’s 
gwine to Mahs’ Junius’s house in de kerridge, an’ I’se 
gwine ’long wid her to set in front wid Sam.” 

“ Mahs’ Junius ain’t got no house,” said Aunt Judy, 
turning around very suddenly. “ Does you mean she 
gwine to old Miss Keswick’s ! ” 

“ Yaas,” answered Peggy. 

“Well, den, why don’ you say so? Dat ain’t Mahs’ 
Junius’s house nohow, though he lib dar as much as 
he lib anywhar. Wot she gwine dar fur t ” 

“ Gwine to git married, I reckon,” said Peggy. 

“ Git out ! ” ejaculated Aunt Judy. “Wid you fur 
bride’maid ? ” 

“ Dunno,” answered Peggy. “ She done tole me she 
didn’t think she’d have much use fur me, but Mahs’ 
Robert he said it were too far fur her to go widout a 
maid ; but ef she want me fur bride’maid I’ll do dat 
too.” 

“ Y ou bawn fool ! ” shouted Aunt Judy. “ Y ou ain’t 
got sense ’nuf to hook de frocks ob de bride’maids. 
An’ dat’s all fool talk about Miss Rob gwine dar to be 
married. When she an’ Mahs’ Junius hab de weddin’, 
165 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


dey’ll hab it h’yar, ob course. She gwine to see ole 
Miss Keswick, cos dat’s de way de fus 7 families alius 
does afore dey hab der weddin 7 . I 7 se pow 7 ful glad she 7 s 
gwine dar, instid ob ole Miss Keswick comin 7 h 7 yar. 
I don 7 wan 7 her kunjerin 7 me, an 7 she 7 d do dat as quick 
as winkin 7 ef de batterbread 7 s a leetle burned, or dar 7 s 
too muck salt in de soup. You 7 s got to keep yo 7 se 7 f 
mighty straight, you Peggy, when you gits whar ole 
Miss Keswick is. Don 7 you come none ob your fool 
tricks, or she kunjer you, an 7 one ob your legs curl up 
like a pig 7 s tail, an 7 nebber uncurl no mo 7 . How you 
like dat?” 

To this Peggy made no reply, but with her eyes 
steadfastly fixed on Aunt Judy, and her lower jaw 
very much dropped, she mentally resolved to keep 
herself as straight as possible during her stay at the 
Keswicks 7 . 

u Daks ole Aun 7 Patsy , 77 continued the speaker. 
“ It’s a mighty long time sence Fve seen Aun 7 Patsy. 
Dat was when I went ober dar wid Miss Rob’s mudder 
when de two fam’lies was fr 7 en 7 s. I was her maid, an 7 
went wid her jes as Mahs 7 Robert wants you to go 
7 long wid Miss Rob. He ain 7 t gwine to furgit how 
dey did in de ole times when de ladies went visitin 7 
in der kerridges fur to stay free, four days. Aun 7 
Patsy were pow 7 ful ole den, but she didn’t die soon 
7 nuf, an 7 ole Miss Keswick she kunjer her, an 7 now she 
can’t die at all . 77 

“ Nebber die ! 77 ejaculated Peggy. 

“ Nebber die, nohow!” answered Aunt Judy. 
“ Mighty offen she thought she gwine to die, but 
’twarn’t no use. She can’t do it. An 7 de las’ time I 
hear ob her, she alibe yit, jes de same as ebber. An 7 
166 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


dar was Malls’ John Keswick. She kunjer him cos he 
rode de gray colt to de coht-house when she done 
tole him to let dat gray colt alone, cos ’twarn’t hisn 
but hern, an’ he go shoot hese’f dead by de gate-pos’. 
You’s got to go fru by dat pos’ when you go inter de 
gate.” 

“ Dat same pos’ ! ” cried Peggy. 

“ Yaas,” said Aunt Judy, “dat same one. An’ dey 
tells me dat on third Chewsdays, which is coht-day, de 
same as when he took de gray colt, as soon as it git 
dark he ghos’ climb up to de top ob dat pos’, an’ set 
dar all night.” 

With a conjuring old woman in the house, and a 
monthly ghost on the gate-post outside, the Keswick 
residence did not appear as attractive to Peggy as it 
had done before, but she mentally determined that 
while she was there she would be very careful to look 
out sharp for herself— a performance for which she 
was very well adapted. 

It was on a pleasant autumn morning that Mr. 
Brandon very carefully ensconced his niece in the 
family carriage, with Peggy and a trusty negro man, 
Sam, on the outside front seat. “I would gladly go 
with you, my dear,” he said, “even without the for- 
mality of an invitation, but it is far better for you to 
go by yourself. My very presence would provoke an 
antagonism in the old lady, while with you personally 
it is impossible that any such feeling should exist. I 
hope your visit may do away with all ill feeling be- 
tween our families.” 

“I want you to understand, uncle,” said Miss Ro- 
berta, “ that I am making this visit almost entirely to 
please you, and I shall do everything in my power to 
167 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


make Mrs. Keswick feel that you and I are perfectly 
well disposed towards her ; but you can’t expect me 
to exhibit any great warmth of friendship towards a 
person who once used such remarkable and violent 
expressions in regard to me.” 

“But those feelings, my dear,” said Mr. Brandon, 
“if we are to believe Mrs. Keswick’s letter, have en- 
tirely disappeared.” 

“It is quite natural that they should do so,” said 
Roberta, “as there is no longer any reason for them. 
And there is another thing I want to impress on your 
mind, Uncle Robert : you must expect no result from 
this visit except a renewal of amity between yourself 
and Mrs. Keswick.” 

“ I understand it perfectly,” said the old gentleman, 
feeling quite confident that if his family and Mrs. Kes- 
wick should once again become friendly, the main 
object of his desires would not be difficult of accom- 
plishment. “And now, my dear, I will not detain 
you any longer. I hope you may have a very pleasant 
visit, and I advise you to cultivate that young Mrs. 
Null, whom I take to be a very sensible and charming 
person.” Then he kissed her good-by and shut the 
carriage door. 

It was about the middle of the afternoon when Sam 
drove through the outer Keswick gate, and Peggy, 
who had jumped down to open said gate, had made 
herself positively sure that, at present, there was no 
ghost sitting upon the post. Before she reached the 
house, Roberta began to wonder a good deal if she 
should find Mrs. Keswick the woman she had pictured 
in her mind. But when the carriage drew up in front 
of the porch there came out to meet her, not the mis- 
168 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


tress of the estate, but a much younger lady, who 
tripped down the steps and reached Roberta as she 
descended from the carriage. 

“¥e are very glad to see you, Miss March,” she said. 
“My aunt is not here just now, but will be back 
directly.” 

“This is Mrs. Null, isn’t it?” said Roberta; and as 
the other smiled and answered with a slight flush that 
it was, Roberta stooped just the little that was neces- 
sary, and kissed her. Mrs. Keswick’s niece had not 
expected so warm a greeting from this lady, to whom 
she was almost a stranger, and instantly she said to 
herself : “ In that kiss Freddy dies to you.” For some 
days she had been turning over and over in her mind 
the question whether or not she should tell Roberta 
March that she was not Mrs. Null. She greatly disliked 
keeping up the deception where it was not necessary, 
and with Roberta, if she would keep the secret, there 
was no need of this aerial matrimony. Besides her 
natural desire to confide in a person of her own sex 
and age, she did not wish Mr. Croft to be the only one 
who shared her secret ; and so she had determined that 
her decision would depend on what sort of girl Roberta 
proved to be. “ If I like her I’ll tell her ; if I don’t 
I won’t,” was the final decision. And when Roberta 
March looked down upon her with her beautiful eyes 
and kissed her, Freddy Null departed this life so far 
as those two were concerned. 

Mrs. Keswick had, apparently, made a very great 
miscalculation in regard to the probable time of arrival 
of her guest, for Miss March and Peggy, and even Sam 
and the horses, had been properly received and cared 
for, and Miss March had been sitting in the parlor for 
169 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


some time, and still the old lady did not come into 
the house. Her niece had grown very anxious about 
this absence, and had begun to fear that her aunt had 
treated Miss March as she had treated her on her 
arrival, and had gone away to stay. But Plez, whom 
she had sent to tell his mistress that her visitor was in 
the house, returned with the information that “ole 
miss” was in one of the lower fields directing some 
men who were digging a ditch, and that she would 
return to the house in a very short time. Thus assured 
that no permanent absence was intended, she went 
into the parlor to entertain Miss March, and to explain, 
as well as she could, the state of affairs ; when, as she 
entered the door, she saw that lady suddenly arise and 
look steadfastly out of the window. 

“ Can that be Mr. Croft?” Miss March exclaimed. 

The younger girl made a dash forward and also 
looked out of the window. Yes, there was Mr. Croft, 
riding across the yard towards the tree where horses 
were commonly tied. 

“Did you expect him?” asked Roberta, quickly. 

“ No more than I expected the man in the moon,” 
was the impulsive and honest answer of her com- 
panion. 

“ I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Null,” said Law- 
rence, when that lady met him on the porch. And 
when he was shown into the parlor, he greeted Miss 
March with much cordiality, but no surprise. But 
when he inquired after other members of the family, 
he was much surprised to find that Mr. Keswick had 
gone to W ashington. “Was not this very unexpected, 
Mrs. Null?” he asked. 

“ Why, no,” she answered. “ Junius told us, almost 
170 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


as soon as he came here, that he would have to be in 
Washington by the first of this week.” 

Mr. Croft did not pursue this subject further, but 
presently remarked : “ Are you and I the first comers, 
Miss March?” 

Roberta looked from one of her companions to the 
other, and remarked : u I do not understand you.” 

Lawrence now perceived that he was treading a very 
uncertain and, perhaps, dangerous path of conversa- 
tion, and the sooner he got out of it the better ; but 
before he could decide what answer to make, a silent 
and stealthy figure appeared at the door, beckoning 
and nodding in a very mysterious way. This proved 
to be the plump black maid Letty, who, having at- 
tracted the attention of the company, whispered 
loudly, “ Miss Annie ! ” whereupon that young lady 
immediately left the room. 

“ What other comers did you expect?” then asked 
Roberta of Mr. Croft. 

“ I certainly supposed there would be a small com- 
pany here,” he said, “ probably neighborhood people ; 
but if I was mistaken, of course I don’t wish to say 
anything more about it to the family.” 

u Were you invited yourself ?” asked Roberta. 

Croft wished very much that he could say that he 
had accidentally dropped in. But this he could not 
do, and he answered that Mrs. Keswick asked him to 
come about this time. He did not consider it neces- 
sary to add that she had written to him at the Springs, 
renewing her invitation very earnestly, and mention- 
ing that Miss March had consented to make one of the 
party. 

This was as far as Roberta saw fit to continue the 
171 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


subject on the present occasion, and she began to talk 
about the charming weather, and the pretty way in 
which the foliage was reddening on the side of a hill 
opposite the window. Mr. Croft was delighted to 
enter into this new channel of speech, and discussed 
with considerable fervor the attractiveness of autumn 
in Virginia. 

Miss Annie found Letty in a very disturbed state of 
mind. The dinner had been postponed until the 
arrival of Miss March, and now it had been still 
further delayed by the non-arrival of the mistress of 
the house, and everything was becoming dried up and 
unfit to eat. 

“ This will never do ! ” exclaimed Miss Annie. “ I 
will go myself and look for aunt. She must have for- 
gotten the time of day, and everything else.” 

Putting on her hat, she ran out of the back door ; 
but she did not have to go very far, for she found the 
old lady in the garden, earnestly regarding a bed of 
turnips. “ Where have you been, my dear aunt?” 
cried the girl. “Miss March has been here ever so 
long, and Mr. Croft has come, and dinner has been 
waiting until it has all dried up. I was afraid that 
you had forgotten that company was coming to-day.” 

“ Forgotten ! ” said the old lady, glaring at the tur- 
nips. “ It isn’t an easy thing to forget. I invited the 
girl, and I expected her to come. But I tell you, Annie, 
when I saw that carriage coming along the road, all 
the old feeling came back to me. I remembered what 
its owners had done to me and mine, and what they 
are still trying to do, and I felt I could not go into the 
house and give her my hand. It would be like tak- 
ing hold of a snake.” 


172 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ A snake ! ” cried her niece, with much warmth. 
“ She is a lovely woman ! And her coming shows what 
kindly feelings she has for you. But, no matter what 
you think about it, aunt, you have asked her here, 
and you must come in and see her. Dinner is wait- 
ing, and I don’t know what more to say about your 
absence.” 

“Go in and have dinner,” said Mrs. Keswick. 
“ Don’t wait for me. I’ll come in and see her after a 
while ; but I haven’t yet got to the point of sitting 
down to the table and eating with her.” 

“ Oh, aunt ! ” exclaimed Annie, “ you ought never 
to have asked her if you are going to treat her in this 
way ! And what am I to say to her? What excuse 
am I to make? Are you not sick? Isn’t something 
the matter with you ? ” 

“You can tell them I’m flustrated,” said the old 
lady, “ and that is all that’s the matter with me. But 
I’m not coming in to dinner, and there is no use of 
saying anything more about it.” 

Annie looked at her, the tears of mortification still 
standing in her eyes. “ I suppose I must go and do 
the best I can,” she said ; “ but, aunt, please tell me 
one thing. Did you invite any other people here ? 
Mr. Croft spoke as if he expected to see other visitors, 
and if they ask anything more about it, I don’t know 
what to say.” 

“ The only other people I invited,” said the old lady, 
with a grim grin, “ were the King of Norway and the 
Prime Minister of Spain, and neither of them could 
come.” 

Annie said no more, but hurrying back to the house, 
she ordered dinner to be served immediately. At 
173 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


first the meal was not a very lively one. The young 
hostess pro tempore explained the absence of the mis- 
tress of the house by stating that she had had a nervous 
attack,— which was quite true,— and that she begged 
them to excuse her until after dinner. The two guests 
expressed their regret at this unfortunate indisposi- 
tion, but each felt a degree of embarrassment at the 
absence of Mrs. Keswick. Roberta, who had heard 
many stories of the old woman, guessed at the true 
reason, and if the distance had not been so great she 
would have gone home that afternoon. Lawrence 
Croft, of course, could imagine no reason for the old 
lady’s absence except the one that had been given 
them, but he suspected that there must be some other. 
He did his best, however, to make pleasant conversa- 
tion ; and Roberta, who began to have a tender feeling 
for the little lady at the head of the table, who, she 
could easily see, had been placed in an unpleasant 
position, seconded his efforts with such effect that 
when the little party had concluded their dinner with 
a course of hot pound-cake and cream-sauce, they 
were chatting together quite sociably. 

In about ten minutes after they had all gone into 
the parlor, Miss Annie excused herself, and presently 
returned with a message to Miss March that Mrs. Kes- 
wick would be very glad to see her in another room. 
This was a very natural message from an elderly lady 
who was not well, but Roberta arose and walked out 
of the parlor with a feeling as if she were about to 
enter the cage of an erratic tigress. But she met with 
no such creature. She saw in the back room into 
which she was ushered a small old woman, dressed 
very plainly, who came forward to meet her, extend- 
174 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


ing both hands, into one of which Roberta placed one 
of her own. 

“ I may as well say at once, Roberta March/’ said 
Mrs. Keswick, “ that the reason I didn’t come to meet 
you when you first arrived was that I couldn’t get 
over, all of a sudden, the feelings I have had against 
your family for so many years.” 

“Why, then, Mrs. Keswick,” said Roberta, very 
coldly, “ did you ask me to come!” 

“ Because I wanted you to come,” said Mrs. Keswick, 
“ and because I thought I was stronger than I turned 
out to be $ but you must make allowances for the stiff- 
ness which gets into old people’s dispositions as well as 
their backs. I want you to understand, however, that 
I meant all I said in that letter, and I am very glad 
to see you. If anything in my conduct has seemed to 
you out of the way, you must set it down to the fact 
that I was making a very sudden turn, and starting 
out on a new track, in which I hope we shall all keep 
for the rest of our lives.” 

Roberta could not help thinking that the sudden 
turn in the new track began with the visit of her 
uncle to this house, and that the old lady need not 
have inflicted upon her the disagreeable necessity of 
witnessing a hostess taking a very repulsive cold 
plunge ; but all she said was that she hoped the fami- 
lies would now live together in friendly relations, and 
that she was sure that if this were to be it would give 
her uncle a great deal of pleasure. She very much 
wanted to ask Mrs. Keswick how Mr. Croft happened 
to be here at this time, but she felt that her very brief 
acquaintance with the lady would not warrant the 
discussion of a subject like that. 

175 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


11 She is very much the kind of woman I thought 
she was/’ said Roberta to herself, when, after some 
further hospitable remarks from Mrs. Keswick, the 
two went to the parlor together to find Mr. Croft. 
But that gentleman, having been deserted by all the 
ladies, was walking up and down the greensward in 
front of the house, smoking a cigar. Mrs. Keswick 
went out to him, and greeted him very cordially, 
begging him to excuse her for not being able to see 
him as soon as he came. 

Lawrence set all this aside in his politest manner, 
but declared himself very much disappointed in not 
seeing Mr. Keswick, and also remarked that from what 
she had said to him on his last visit he had expected 
to find quite a little party here. 

“I am sorry,” said the old lady, u that Junius is 
away, for he would be very glad to see you, and it 
never came into my mind to mention to you that he 
was obliged to be in Washington at this time. And 
as for the party, I thought afterwards that it would be 
a great deal cosier just to have a few persons here.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Lawrence ; “ most certainly, a great 
deal cosier.” 

Mrs. Keswick ate supper with her guests, and be- 
haved very well. During the evening she sustained 
the main part of the conversation, giving the com- 
pany a great many anecdotes and reminiscences of old 
times and old families, relating them in an odd and 
peculiar way that was very interesting, especially to 
Croft, to whom the subject-matter was quite new. 
But although her three companions listened to the old 
lady with deferential attention, interspersed with ap- 
propriate observations, each one made her the object 
176 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of severe mental scrutiny, and endeavored to discover 
the present object of her scheming old mind. Roberta 
was quite sure that her invitation and that of Mr. 
Croft was a piece of artful management on the part of 
the old lady, and imagined, though she was not quite 
sure about it, that it was intended as a bit of match- 
making. To get her married to somebody else would 
be, of course, the best possible method of preventing 
her marrying Junius ; and this, she had reason to be- 
lieve, was the prime object of old Mrs. Keswick’s 
existence. But why should Mr. Croft be chosen as 
the man with whom she was to be thrown. She had 
learned that the old lady had seen him before, but was 
quite certain that her acquaintance with him was 
slight. Could Junius have told his aunt about the 
friendship between herself and Mr. Croft? It was not 
like him, but a great many unlikely things take place. 

As for Lawrence, he knew very well there was a trick 
beneath his invitation, but he could not at all make 
out why it had been played. He had been given an 
admirable opportunity of offering himself to Miss 
March, but there was no reason apparent to him why 
this should have been done. 

Miss Annie, watching her aunt very carefully, and 
speaking but seldom, quite promptly made up her 
mind in regard to the matter. She knew very well 
the bitter opposition of the old woman to a marriage 
between Junius and Miss March ; and saw, as plainly 
as she saw the lamp on the table, that Roberta had 
been brought here on purpose to be sacrificed to Mr. 
Croft. Everything had been made ready, the altar 
cleared, and, as well as the old lady’s grindstone would 
act, the knife sharpened. “ But,” said Miss Annie to 
177 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


herself, “ she needn’t suppose that I am going to sit 
quiet and see all this going on, with Junius away off 
there in Washington, knowing nothing about any 
of it.” 

Miss Roberta retired quite early to her room, 
being fatigued by her long drive, and she was just 
about to put out her light when she heard a little 
knock at the door. Opening it slightly, she saw there 
Junius Keswick’s cousin, who also appeared quite 
ready for bed. 

“ May I come in for a minute? ” said Annie. 

“ Certainly,” replied Miss March, admitting her, and 
closing the door after her. 

“ 1 have something to tell you,” said the younger 
lady, admiring, as she spoke, the length of her com- 
panion’s braided hair. “ I intended to keep it until 
to-morrow ; but since I came up -stairs I felt I could 
not let you sleep a night under the same roof with me 
without knowing it. I am not Mrs. Kull.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Roberta, in a tone which made 
Annie lift up her hands and implore her not to speak 
so loud, for fear that her aunt should hear her. 

“ I know she hasn’t come up stairs yet, for she sits up 
dreadfully late ; but she can hear things almost any- 
where. Ko, I am not Mrs. Null. There is no such 
person as Mr. Null, or, at least, he is a mere gaseous 
myth, whom I married for the sake of the protection 
his name gave me.” 

“ This is the most extraordinary thing I ever heard,” 
said Roberta. “You must tell me all about it.” 

“ I don’t want to keep you up,” said Annie ; “ you 
must be tired.” 

“ I am not tired,” said Roberta, “ for every particle 
178 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of fatigue has flown away.” And with this she made 
Annie sit down beside her on the lounge. “ Now you 
must tell me what this means,” she said. “ Can it be 
that your aunt does not know about it? ” 

“ Indeed, she does not,” said Annie. “I married 
Freddy Null in New York, for reasons which we need 
not talk of now, for that matter is all past and gone ; 
but when I came here, I found, almost immediately, 
that he would be more necessary to me in this house 
than anywhere else.” 

“I cannot imagine,” said Roberta, “ why a gaseous 
husband should be necessary to you here.” 

“It is not a very easy thing to explain,” said the 
other ; “ that is, it is easy enough, but—” 

“ Oh,” said Roberta, catching the reason of her com- 
panion’s hesitation, “ I don’t think you ought to object 
to telling me your reason. Does it relate to your cousin 
Junius?” 

“Well,” said Annie, “not altogether, and not so 
much to him as to my aunt.” 

“ I think I see,” said Roberta. “ A marriage 
between you two would suit her very well. Are you 
afraid that she would try to force him on you?” 

“ Oh, no,” said Annie ; “ that would be bad enough, 
but it would not be so embarrassing, and so dread- 
fully unpleasant, as forcing me on him, and that is 
what aunt wants to do. And you can easily see that, 
in that case, I could not stay in this house at all. I 
scarcely know my cousin as a man, my strongest recol- 
lection of him being that of a big and very nice boy, 
who used to climb up in the apple-trees to get me 
apples, and then come down to the very lowest branch, 
where he could drop the ripest ones right into my 
179 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


apron, and not bruise them. But even if I had been 
acquainted with him all these years, and liked him 
ever so much, I couldn’t stay here and have aunt 
make him take me, whether he wanted to or not. 
And unless you knew my aunt very well, you could 
not conceive how unscrupulously straightforward she 
is in carrying out her plans.” 

“And so,” said Roberta, “you have quite baffled 
her by this little ruse of a marriage.” 

“ Not altogether,” said Annie, with a smile, “ for she 
vows she is going to get me divorced from Mr. Null.” 

“ That is funnier than the rest of it,” said Roberta, 
laughing. And they both laughed together, but in a 
subdued way, so as not to attract the attention of the 
old lady below stairs. 

“ And now you see,” said Annie, “ why I must be 
Mrs. Null while I stay here. And you will promise 
me that you will never tell any one ? ” 

“You may be sure I shall keep your queer secret. 
But have you not told it to any one but me ? ” 

“Yes,” said Annie ; “but I have only told it to one 
other— Mr. Croft. But please don’t speak of it to 
him.” 

“Mr. Croft!” exclaimed Roberta. “How in the 
world did you come to tell him ? Do you know him 
so well as that? ” 

“Well,” said Annie, “it does seem out of the way, 
I admit, that I should tell him ; but I can’t give you 
the whole story of how I came to do it. It wouldn’t 
interest you— at least, it would, but I oughtn’t to tell 
it. It is a twisty sort of thing.” 

“Twisty?” said Roberta, drawing herself up and a 
little away from her companion. 

180 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Annie looked up, and caught the glance by which 
this word was accompanied, and the tone in which it 
was spoken went straight to her soul. “Now,” said 
she, “ if you are going to look at me and speak in that 
way, Fll tell you every bit of it.” And she did tell 
the whole story, from her first meeting with Mr. Croft 
in the Information Shop, down to the present moment. 

“ What is your name, anyway f ” said Roberta, when 
the story had been told. 

“ My name,” said the other, u is Annie Peyton.” 

“ And now, do you know, Annie Peyton,” said Ro- 
berta, passing her fingers gently among the short, 
light-brown curls on her companion’s forehead, “ that 
I think you must have a very, very kindly recollec- 
tion of the boy who used to come down to the lowest 
branches of the tree to drop apples into your apron.” 


181 


CHAPTER XVI 


Shortly after Peggy arrived with her mistress at the 
Keswick residence, her mind began to be a good deal 
disturbed. She had been surprised, when the carriage 
drew up to the door, that “Mahs 7 Junius 77 had not 
rushed down to meet his intended bride, and when she 
found he was not in the house, and had, indeed, gone 
away from home, she did not at all know what to make 
of it. If Miss Rob took the trouble to travel all the 
way to the home of the man that the Midbranch people 
had decided she should marry, it was a very wonderful 
thing indeed that he should not be there to meet her. 
And while these thoughts were turning themselves 
over in the mind of this meditative girl of color, and 
the outgoing look in her eyes was extending itself 
farther and farther, as if in search of some solution of 
the mystery, up rode Mr. Croft. 

“Dar he ! 77 exclaimed Peggy, as she stood at the 
corner of the house where she had been pursuing her 
meditations. “ He ! 77 she continued, in a voice that 
would have been quite audible to any one standing 
near. “Upon my libin 7 soul, wot brung him h 7 yar? 
Miss Rob don 7 wan 7 him roun 7 , nohow. I done druv 
him off wunst. Upon my libin 7 soul, he 7 s done brung 
182 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


his bag behin’ him on de saddle, an’ I reckon he’s 
gwine to stay.” 

As Mr. Croft dismounted and went into the house, 
Peggy glowered at him, sundry expressions, sounding 
very much like odds and ends of imprecations which 
she had picked up in the course of a short but inves- 
tigative existence, gurgling from her lips. 

“ I wish dat ole Miss Keswick kunjer him. Ef she 
knew how Miss Rob hate him, she curl he legs up, an’ 
gib him mis’ry spranglin’ down he back.” 

The hope of seeing this intruder well “kunjered” 
by the old lady was the only thing that gave a promise 
of peace to the mind of Peggy ; and though her nature 
was by no means a social one, she determined to make 
the acquaintance of some one or other in the house, 
hoping to find out how Mrs. Keswick conducted her 
conjurations, at what time of day or night they were 
generally put into operation, and how persons could be 
brought under their influence. 

The breakfast-hour in the Keswick house was a 
variable one. Sometimes the mistress of the establish- 
ment rose early and wanted her morning meal before 
she went out of doors ; at other times she would go 
off to some distant point on the farm to see about some- 
thing that was doing, or ought to be done, and break- 
fast would be kept waiting for her. The delays, 
however, were not all due to the old lady’s irregular 
habits. Very often Letty would come up-stairs with 
the information that the “ bread ain’t riz ” ; and as a 
Virginia breakfast without hot bread would be an im- 
possibility, the meal would be postponed until the 
bread did conclude to rise, or until some substitute, 
such as “ beaten biscuit,” had been provided. 

183 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


On the morning after his arrival, Lawrence Croft 
came down-stairs about eight o’clock, and found the 
lower part of the house deserted ; and glancing into 
the dining-room as he passed its open door, he saw no 
signs of breakfast. The house was cool, but the sun 
appeared to be shining warmly outside, and he stepped 
out of the open back door into a small flower-garden 
with a series of broad boards down the walk which lay 
along the middle of it. Up and down this broad walk 
Lawrence strode, breathing the fresh air, and thinking 
over matters. He was not at all satisfied at being 
here during Keswick’s absence, feeling that he was 
enjoying an advantage which, although it was quite 
honorable, did not appear so. What he had to do was 
to get an interview with Miss March as soon as pos- 
sible, and have that matter over. When he had been 
definitely accepted or rejected, he would go away. 
And, whatever the result might be, he would write to 
his rival as soon as he returned to the Springs, and 
inform him of it, and would also explain how he had 
happened to be here with Miss March. While he was 
engaged in planning these honorable intentions, there 
came from the house Mrs. Keswick’s niece, with a 
basket in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other, 
and she immediately applied herself to cutting some 
geraniums and chrysanthemums, which were about the 
last flowers left blooming at that season in the garden. 

11 Good morning,” said Croft, from the other end of 
the walk. “ I am glad to see you out so early.” 

“ Good morning,” she replied, with a look which in- 
dicated that she was not at all glad to see him, u but 
I don’t think it is early.” 

Croft had noticed on the preceding day that her 
184 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


coolness towards him still continued, but it did not 
suit him to let her know that he perceived it. He 
went up to her, and in a very friendly way remarked : 
“ There is something I wish very much you would tell 
me. What is your name ? It is very odd that during 
all the time I have been acquainted with you I have 
never known your name.” 

“You must have taken an immense interest in it,” 
she said, as she snipped some dried leaves off a twig of 
geranium she had cut. 

“ It was not that I did not take any interest,” said 
Croft, “but at first your name never came forward, 
and I soon began to know you by the title which your 
remarkable condition of wedlock gave you.” 

“ And that is the name,” said the lady, very decidedly^ 
“ by which I am to be known in this house. I am very 
proud of my maiden name, but I am not going to tell 
it to you for fear that some time you will use it.” 

“ Oh ! ” ejaculated Mr. Croft. “ Then I suppose I 
am to continue even to think of you as Mrs. Null.” 

“You needn’t think of me at all,” said she, “but 
when you speak to me I most certainly expect you 
to use that name. It was only by a sort of accident 
that you came to know it was not my name.” 

“ I don’t consider it an accident at all,” said Croft. 
“ I look upon it as a piece of very kindly confidence.” 

Miss Annie gave a little twist to her mouth, which 
seemed to indicate that if she spoke she should express 
her contempt of such an opinion, and Croft continued : 

“ I am very sorry that upon that occasion I should 
have felt myself obliged to refuse your request that I 
should make you acquainted with my reasons for de- 
siring to know Mr. Keswick’s whereabouts. But I am 
185 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


sure, if you understood the matter, you would not be 
in the least degree—” 

“ Oh, you need not trouble yourself about that,” she 
interrupted. “ I don’t want you to tell me anything 
at all. It is quite easy now to see why you wished to 
know where my cousin was.” 

“ It is impossible that you should know ! ” ex- 
claimed Croft. 

“ We will say no more about it,” replied Annie. 11 1 
am quite satisfied.” 

“I would give a good deal,” said Lawrence, after 
looking steadily at her for a few moments, “ to know 
what you really do think.” 

Annie had cut all the flowers she wanted, or, rather, 
all she could get j and she now stood up and looked 
her companion full in the face. u Mr. Croft,” she said, 
“ it has been necessary, and it is necessary now, for me 
to have some concealments, and I am sorry for it ; but 
it isn’t at all necessary for me to conceal my opinion 
of your reasons for wanting to know about Junius. 
You were really in pursuit of Miss March, and, know- 
ing that he was in love with her, you wanted to make 
sure that when you went to her he wouldn’t be there. 
It is my firm opinion that is all there is about it $ and 
the fact of your turning up here just after my cousin 
left proves it.” 

“Miss Annie,” exclaimed Croft,— “ I have heard 
you called by that name, and I vow I won’t call you 
Mrs. Null when there is no need for it,— you were 
never more mistaken in your life, and I am very 
sorry that you should have such a low opinion of me 
as to think I would wish to take advantage of your 
cousin during his absence.” 

186 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Then why do you do it? ” asked Miss Annie, with 
a little upward pitch of her chin. 

At this moment the breakfast-bell rang, and Mrs. 
Keswick appeared in the back door, evidently some- 
what surprised to see these two conversing in the 
garden. 

“I am very much vexed,” said Lawrence, as he 
followed his companion, who had suddenly turned 
towards the house, “ that you should think of me in 
this way.” 

But to this remark Miss Annie had no opportunity 
to reply. 

After breakfast, Mrs. Keswick proved the truth 
of what her niece had said about her unscrupulous 
straightforwardness when carrying out her projects. 
She had invited Mr. Croft and Miss March to her 
house in order that the former might have the oppor- 
tunity, which she had discovered he wanted and could 
not get, of offering himself in marriage to the lady ; 
and she now made it her business to see that Mr. 
Croft’s opportunity should stand up very clear and 
definite before him, and that all interfering circum- 
stances should be carefully removed. She informed 
her niece that she wished her to go with her to a 
thicket on the other side of the wheat-field (which 
that young lady had advised should be ploughed for 
pickles) to look for a turkey -hen which she had reason 
to believe had been ridiculous enough to hatch out a 
brood of young at this improper season. Annie de- 
murred, for she did not want to go to look for turkeys, 
nor did she want to give Mr. Croft any opportunities ; 
but the old lady insisted, and carried her off. Croft 
felt that there was something very bare and raw- 
187 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


boned about the position in which he was left with 
Miss March ; and he thought that lady might readily 
suppose that Mrs. Keswick’s object was to leave them 
together. He imagined that himself, though why 
she should be so kind to him he could not feel quite 
certain. However, his path lay straight before him, 
and if the old lady had whitewashed it to make it 
more distinct, he did not intend to refuse to walk 
in it. 

“ I have been looking at that hill over yonder,” said 
he, “ with a cluster of pine-trees on the brow of it. I 
should think there would be a fine view from that 
hill. Would you not like to walk up there? ” 

Lawrence felt that this proposition was quite in 
keeping with the bareness of the previous proceed- 
ings, but he did not wish to stay in the house and be 
subject to the unexpected return of the old lady and 
her niece. 

“Certainly,” said Miss March, “nothing would 
please me better.” And so they walked up Pine Top 
Hill. 

When they reached this elevated position, they sat 
down on the rock on which Mrs. Hull had once con- 
versed with Freddy, and admired the view, which 
was, indeed, a very fine one. After about five minutes 
of this, which Lawrence thought was quite enough, 
he turned to his companion and said : 

“ Miss March, I do not wish you to suppose that I 
brought you up here for the purpose of viewing those 
rolling hills and distant forests.” 

“ You didn’t? ” exclaimed Roberta, in a tone of sur- 
prise. 

“ No,” said he, “ I brought you here because it is a 
188 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


place where I could speak freely to you, and tell you 
I love you.” 

u That was not at all necessary,” said Miss March. 
“¥e had the lower floor of the house entirely to our- 
selves, and I am sure that Mrs. Keswick would not 
have returned until you had waved a handkerchief, or 
given some signal from the back of the house that it 
was all over.” 

Croft looked at her with a troubled expression. 
“ Miss March,” said he, “ do you not think I am in 
earnest? Do you not believe what I have said? ” 

“ I have not the slightest doubt you are in earnest,” 
she answered. u The magnitude of the preparation 
proves it.” 

“ I am glad you said that, for it gives me the op- 
portunity for making an explanation,” said Lawrence. 
“ Our meeting at this place may be a carefully con- 
trived stratagem, but it was not contrived by me. I 
am very well aware that Mr. Keswick also wishes to 
marry you — ” 

“ Did you see that in the Richmond “ Despatch,” or 
in one of the New York papers?” interrupted Miss 
March. 

“ That is a point,” said Lawrence, overlooking the 
ridicule, “ which we need not discuss. I am perfectly 
aware that Mr. Keswick is my rival, but I wish you 
to understand that I am not voluntarily taking any 
undue advantage of his absence. I believe him to be 
a very fair and generous man, and I would wish to 
be as open and generous as he is. When I came, I 
expected to find him here, and, standing on equal 
ground with him, I intended to ask you to accept my 
love.” 


189 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Well, then,” said Roberta, “ would it not be more 
fair and generous for you to go away now, and post- 
pone this proposal until some time when you would 
each have an equal chance ? ” 

“No, it would not,” said Lawrence, vehemently. 
“ I have now an opportunity of telling you that I love 
you ardently, passionately ; and nothing shall cause 
me to postpone it. Will you not consider what I 
say? Will you make no answer to this declaration 
of most true and honest love ? ” 

“ I am considering what you have said,” she 
answered, “and I am very glad to hear that you 
did not know of this cunning little trap that Mrs. 
Keswick has laid for me. It is all very plain to me, 
but I do not know why she should have selected you 
as one of the actors in the plot. Have you ever told 
her that you are a suitor for my hand ? ” 

“ Never ! ” exclaimed Lawrence. “ She may have 
imagined it, for she heard I was a frequent visitor to 
Midbranch. But let us set all that aside. I am on 
fire with love for you. Will you tell me that you 
can return that love, or that I must give up all hope ? 
This is the most important question of my whole 
life. I beg you, from the bottom of my heart, to 
decide it.” 

“Mr. Croft,” said she, “when you used to come, 
nearly every day, to see me at Midbranch, and we 
took those long walks in the woods, you never talked 
in this way. I considered you as a gentleman whose 
prudence and good sense would not allow him to step 
outside of the path of perfectly conventional social 
intercourse. This is not conventional and not pru- 
dent.” 


190 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ I loved yon then, and I love yon now ! ” exclaimed 
Lawrence. “You must have known that I loved 
you, for my declaration does not in the least surprise 
you.’' 

u Once— it was the last time you visited Midbranch 
—I suspected, just a little, that your mind might be 
affected somewhat in the way you speak of, but I 
supposed that attack of weakness had passed away.” 

“ I know what you mean,” said Lawrence, “ but I 
can’t endure to talk of such trifles. I love you, 
Roberta—” 

“ Miss March,” she interrupted. 

“And I want you to tell me if you love me in 
return.” 

Miss March rose from the rock where she had been 
sitting, and her companion rose with her. After a 
moment’s silence, during which he watched her with 
intense eagerness, she said : “ Mr. Croft, I am going 
to give you your choice. Would you prefer being 
refused under a cherry-tree or under a sycamore 1 ” 

There was a little smile on her lips as she said this, 
which Lawrence could not interpret. 

“ I decline being refused under any tree,” he said 
with vehemence. 

u I prefer the cherry-tree,” said she ; u there is a 
very pretty one over there on the ridge of this hill, 
and its leaves are nearly all gone, which would make 
it quite appropriate. But what is the meaning of 
this ? There comes Peggy. It isn’t possible that she 
thinks it’s time for me to give out something to Aunt 
Judy.” 

Croft turned, and there was the wooden Peggy, 
marching steadily up the hill, and almost upon them. 

191 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


u What do you want, Peggy ? ” asked Miss Roberta. 

u Dar’s a man down to de house dat wants him,” 
pointing to Mr. Croft. 

Lawrence was very much surprised. u A man who 
wants me ! ” he exclaimed. “ You must be mistaken.” 

“ No, sah,” replied Peggy ; “ you’s de one.” 

For a moment Lawrence hesitated. His disposition 
was to let any man in the world, be he president or 
king, wait until he had settled this matter with Miss 
March. But with Peggy present it was impossible 
to go on with the love-making. He might, indeed, 
send her back with a message $ but the thought came 
to him that it would be well to postpone for a little 
the pressing of his suit, for the lady was certainly in 
a very untowards humor, and he was not altogether 
sorry to have an excuse for breaking off the inter- 
view at this point. He had not yet been discarded, 
and he would like to think over the matter, and see 
if he could discover any reason for the very disre- 
spectful manner, to say the least of it, with which 
Miss March had received his amatory advances. u I 
suppose I must go and see the man,” he said, “ though 
I can’t imagine who it can possibly be. Will you 
return to the house?” 

“ No,” said Miss Roberta, “ I will stay here a little 
longer, and enjoy the view.” 


192 


CHAPTER XYII 

As Lawrence Croft walked down Pine Top Hill his 
mind was in a good deal of a hubbub. The mind of 
almost any lover would be stirred up if he came fresh 
from an interview in which his lady had pinned him, 
to use a cruel figure, in various places on the wall to 
see how he would spin and buzz in different lights. 
But the disdainful pin had not yet gone through a 
vital part of Lawrence’s hopes, and they had strength 
to spin and buzz a good deal yet. As soon as he 
should have an opportunity he would rack his brains 
to find out what it was that had put Roberta March 
into such a strange humor. No one who simply de- 
sired to decline the addresses of a gentleman would 
treat her lover as Miss March had treated him. It 
was quite evident that she wished to punish him. 
But what had been his crime f 

But the immediate business on his hands was to go 
and see what man it was who wished to see him. 
Ordinarily the fact that a man had called upon him 
would not be considered by Lawrence a matter for cogi- 
tation, but as he walked towards the house it seemed 
to him very odd that any one should call upon him 
in such an out-of-the-way place as this, where so few 
people knew him to be. He was not a business man, 
193 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


but a large portion of his funds was invested in a 
business concern, and it might be that something had 
gone wrong, and that a message had been sent him. 
His address at the Green Sulphur Springs was known, 
and the man in charge there knew that he was visiting 
Mrs. Keswick. 

These considerations made him a little anxious, and 
helped to keep his mind in the hubbub which has been 
mentioned. 

When he reached the front of the house, Lawrence 
saw a lean gray horse tied to a tree, and a man sitting 
upon the porch ; and as soon as he made his appear- 
ance the latter came down the steps to meet him. 

“ I didn’t go into the house, sir,” he said, “ because 
I thought you’d just as lief have a talk outside.” 

“ What is your business? ” asked Croft. 

The man moved a few steps farther from the house, 
and Lawrence followed him. 

“Is it anything secret you have to tell me?” he 
asked. 

“Well, yes, sir ; I should think it was,” replied the 
other— a tall man with sandy hair and beard, and 
dressed in a checkered business suit which had lost a 
good deal of the freshness of its early youth. “ I may 
as well tell you at once who I am. I am an anti-de- 
tective. Never heard of that sort of person, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

“ Never,” said Lawrence, curtly. 

“Well, sir, the organization which I belong to is 
one which is filling a long-felt want. You know very 
well, sir, that this country is full of detective officers, 
not only those who belong to a regular police force, 
but lots of private ones, who, if anybody will pay 
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them for it, will go to Jericho to hunt a man up. 
Now, sir, our object is to protect society against these 
people. When we get information that a man is going 
to be hounded down by any of these detectives— and 
we have private ways of knowing these things— we 
just go to that man, and if he is willing to become one 
of our clients we take him into our charge ; and our 
business, after that, is to keep him informed of just 
what is being done against him. He can stay at home 
in comfort with his wife, settle up his accounts, and do 
what he likes, and the day before he is to be swooped 
down on he gets notice from us, and comfortably goes 
to Chicago, or Jacksonville, where he can take his ease 
until we post him of the next move of the enemy. If 
he wants to take extra precautions, and writes a letter 
to anybody in the place where he lives, dated from 
London or Hong-Kong, and sends that letter under 
cover to us, we’ll see that it is mailed from the place 
it is dated from, and that it gets into the hands of the 
detectives. There have been cases where a gentleman 
has had six months or a year of perfect comfort by 
the detectives being thrown off by a letter like this. 
That is only one of the ways in which we help and 
protect persons in difficulties, who, if it wasn’t for us, 
would be dragged off, handcuffed, from the bosom of 
their families, and who, even if they never got con- 
victed, would have to pay a lot of money to get out of 
the scrape. Now, I have put myself a good deal out 
of the way, sir, to come to you and offer you our 
assistance.” 

“ Me ! ” exclaimed Croft. “ What are you talking 
about?” 

The man smiled. u Of course it’s all right to know 
195 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


nothing about it, and it’s just what we would advise ; 
but I assure you we are thoroughly posted in your 
affair, and to let you know that we are, I’ll just men- 
tion that the case is that of Croft after Keswick, 
through Candy.” 

“ Stuff and nonsense ! ” exclaimed Lawrence, getting 
red in the face. “ There is no such case ! ” 

He was about to say more, when a few words from 
the anti-detective stopped him suddenly. 

“ Look here, Mr. Keswick,” said the man, levelling 
a long forefinger at him, and speaking very earnestly, 
“ don’t you go and flatter yourself that this thing has 
been dropped because you haven’t heard of it for a 
month or two 5 and if you’ll take my advice, you’ll 
make up your mind on the spot, either to let things go 
on and be nabbed, or to put yourself under our pro- 
tection, and live in entire safety until this thing has 
blown over, without any trouble except a little trav- 
elling.” 

At the mention of Keswick’s name Lawrence had 
seen through the whole affair at a single mental glance. 
The man was after Junius Keswick, and his business 
was to Lawrence more startling and repugnant than 
it could possibly be to any one else. It was necessary 
to be very careful. If he immediately avowed who he 
was, the man might yet find Keswick before warning 
and explanation could be got to him, and not only 
put that gentleman in a very unpleasant state of mind, 
but do a lot of mischief besides. He did not believe 
that Mr. Candy had recommenced his investigations 
without consultation with him, but this person evi- 
dently knew that such an investigation had been set 
on foot, and that would be sufficient for his purposes- 
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Lawrence decided to be very wary, and he said to the 
man, u Did you ask for me here by name ? ” 

“ No, sir” said the other ; u I had information that 
you were here, and that you were the only gentleman 
who lived here ; and although you are in your own 
home, I did not know but this was one of those cases 
in which names were dropped and servants changed 
to suit an emergency. I asked the little darky I saw 
at the front of the house if she lived here, and she told 
me she had only just come. That put me on my guard, 
and so I merely asked if the gentleman was in, and she 
went and got you. We’re very careful about calling 
names, and you needn’t be afraid that any of our peo- 
ple will ever give you away on that line.” 

Lawrence reflected for a moment, and then he said : 
u What are your terms and arrangements for carrying 
on an affair of this kind? ” 

“ They are very simple and moderate,” said the man, 
taking a wallet from his pocket. “ There is one of 
our printed slips, which we show but don’t give away. 
To become a client all you have to do is to send fifteen 
dollars to the office, or to pay it to me if you think no 
time should be lost. That will entitle you to protec- 
tion for a year. After that we make the nominal 
charge of five dollars for each letter sent you giving 
you information of what is going on against you. For 
extra services, such as mailing letters from distant 
points, of course there will be extra charges.” 

Lawrence glanced over the printed slip, which con- 
tained information very similar to that the man had 
given him, and as he did so he came to the conclusion 
that there would be nothing dishonest in allowing the 
fellow to continue in his mistake, and to endeavor to 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 

find out what mischief was about to be done in his, 
Lawrence’s, name, and under his apparent authority. 

“ I will become a subscriber,” said he, taking out his 
pocket-book, “and request that you give me all the 
information you possess, here and immediately.” 

“ That is the best thing to do,” said the man, taking 
the money, “ for, in my opinion, no time is to be lost. 
I’ll give you a receipt for this.” 

“ Don’t trouble yourself about that,” said Lawrence ; 
“ let me have your information.” 

“You’re very right,” said the man. “It’s a great 
deal better not to have your name on anything. And 
now for the points. Candy, who has charge of Croft’s 
job, is going more into the detective business than he 
used to be, and we have information that he has lately 
taken up your affair in good, solid earnest. He found 
out that Croft had put somebody else on your track 
without regularly taking the business out of his hands, 
and this made him mad ; and I don’t wonder at it, for 
Croft, as I understand, has plenty of money, and if he 
concluded to throw Candy over, he ought to have done 
it fair and square, and paid him something handsome 
in consideration for having taken the job away. But 
he didn’t do anything of the kind, and Candy considers 
himself still in his employment, and vows he’s going to 
get hold of you before the other party does ; so, you 
see, you have got two sets of detectives after you, and 
they’ll be mighty sharp, for the first one that gets you 
will make the money.” 

“Where are Candy’s detectives now?” asked Law- 
rence. 

“ That I can’t tell you positively, as I am so far from 
our New York office, to which all information comes. 

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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


But now that you are a subscriber I’ll communicate 
with headquarters and the necessary points will be 
immediately sent to you, by telegraph if necessary. 
All that you have to do is to stay here until you hear 
from us.” 

“ From the way you spoke just now,” said Lawrence, 
“ I supposed the detective would be here to-day or 
to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, no,” said the other, “ Candy has not the facili- 
ties for finding people that we have. But it takes 
some time for me to communicate with headquarters 
and for you to hear from there, and so, as I said before, 
there isn’t an hour to be lost. But you’re all right now.” 

“ 1 expected you to give me more definite informa- 
tion than this,” said Lawrence ; “ but now, I suppose, I 
must wait until I hear from New York, at five dollars 
a message.” 

“ My business is to enlist subscribers,” said the other. 
“You couldn’t expect me to tell you anything definite 
when I am in an out-of-the-way place like this.” 

“ Did you come down to Virginia on purpose to find 
me ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“No,” said the man, “I am on my way to Mobile, 
and I only lose one train by stopping here to attend to 
your business.” 

“ How did you know I was here ? ” 

“Ah,” said the anti-detective, with a smile, “as I 
told you, we have facilities. I knew you were at this 
house, and I came here, straight as a die.” 

“It is truly wonderful,” said Lawrence, “how accu- 
rate your information is. And now I will tell you 
something you can have gratis. You have made one 
of the most stupid blunders that I ever heard of. Mr. 

199 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Keswick went away from here nearly a week ago, 
and I am the Mr. Croft whom you supposed to be in 
pursuit of him. 7 ’ 

The man started, and gave vent to an unpleasant 
ejaculation. 

“ To prove it , 77 said Lawrence, “ there is my card, 
and , 77 putting his hand into his pocket, “here are 
several letters addressed to me. And I want to let 
you know that I am not in pursuit of Mr. Keswick ; 
that he and I are very good friends, and that I have 
frequently seen him of late ; and so you can just drop 
this business at once. And as for Candy, he has no 
right to take a single step for which I have not au- 
thorized him. I merely employed him to get Mr. 
Keswick 7 s address, which I wished for a very friendly 
motive. I shall write to Candy at once . 77 

The man 7 s face was not an agreeable study. He 
looked angry ; he looked baffled $ and yet he looked 
incredulous. “ Now, come , 77 said he ; “ if you are not 
Keswick, what did you pay me that money for ? 77 

“I paid it to you , 77 said Lawrence, “because I 
wanted to find out what dirty business you were doing 
in my name. I have had the worth of my money, and 
you can now go . 77 

The man did not go, but stood gazing at Lawrence 
in a very peculiar way. “ If Mr. Keswick isn 7 t here , 77 
he said, “ I believe you are here waiting for him, and 
I am going to stay and warn him. People don’t set 
private detectives on other men’s tracks just for 
friendly motives . 77 

Lawrence’s face flushed and he made a step for- 
ward, but suddenly checking himself, he looked at the 
man for a moment and then said : “ I suppose you want 
200 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


me to understand that if I become one of your sub- 
scribers in my own name, you will be willing to with- 
hold the information you intended to give Mr. 
Keswick.” 

“ Well,” said the man, relapsing into his former con- 
fidential tones, “ business is business. If I could see 
Mr. Keswick, I don’t know whether he would employ 
me or not. I have no reason to work for one person 
more than another, and, of course, if one man comes 
to me and another doesn’t, I’m bound to work for the 
man who comes. That’s business ! ” 

“You have said quite enough,” said Lawrence. 
“ Now leave this place instantly ! ” 

“No, I won’t!” said the man, shutting his mouth 
very tightly, as he drew himself up and folded his arms 
on his chest. 

Lawrence was young, well made, and strong, but the 
other man was taller, heavier, and perhaps stronger. 
To engage in a personal contest to compel a fellow like 
this to depart would be a very unpleasant thing for 
Lawrence to do, even if he succeeded. He was a 
visitor here ; the ladies would probably be witnesses 
of the conflict ; and although the natural impulse of 
his heart, predominant over everything else at that 
moment, prompted him to spring upon the impudent 
fellow and endeavor to thrash him, still his instincts 
as a gentleman forbade him to enter into such a con- 
test, which would probably have no good effect, no 
matter how it resulted. Never before did he feel the 
weakness of the moral power of a just cause when 
opposed to brutal obstinacy. Still he did not retreat 
from his position. “Did you hear what I said?” he 
cried. “ Leave this place ! ” 

201 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ You are not master here/’ said the other, still pre- 
serving his defiant attitude, “ and you have no right to 
order me away. I am not going.” 

Despite his inferiority in size, despite his gentle- 
manly instincts, and despite his prudent desire not to 
make an exhibition of himself before Miss March and 
the household, it is probable that Lawrence’s anger 
would have assumed some form of physical manifesta- 
tion, had not Mrs. Keswick appeared suddenly on the 
porch. It was quite evident to her, from the aspect of 
the two men, that something was wrong, and she called 
out : “ Who’s that? ” 

“That, madam,” said Lawrence, stepping a little 
back, “ is a very impertinent man who has no business 
here, and whom I’ve ordered off the place, and as he 
has refused to go, I propose—” 

“ Stop ! ” cried the old lady ; and turning, she rushed 
into the house. Before either of the men could recov- 
er from their surprise at her sudden action, she reap- 
peared upon the porch, carrying a double-barrelled 
gun. Taking her position on the top of the flight of 
steps, with a quick movement of her thumb she cocked 
both barrels. Then, drawing herself up and resting 
firmly on her right leg, with the left advanced, she 
raised the gun, her right elbow well against her side, 
and with her extended left arm as steady as one of the 
beams of the roof above her. She hooked her fore- 
finger around one of the triggers, her eagle eye glanced 
along the barrels straight at the head of the anti-de- 
tective, and in a clarion voice she sang out : “ Go ! ” 
The man stared at her. He saw the open muzzles 
of the gun-barrels 5 beyond them, he saw the bright 
tops of the two percussion-caps ; and still beyond them, 
202 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


he saw the bright and determined eye that was taking 
sight along the barrels. All this he took in at a glance, 
and, without word or comment, he made a quick dodge 
of his head, jumped to one side, made a dash for his 
horse, and, untying the bridle with a jerk, he mounted 
and galloped out of the open gate, turning as he did so 
to find himself still covered by the muzzles of that gun. 
When he had nearly reached the outer gate, and felt 
himself out of range, he turned in his saddle, and look- 
ing back at Lawrence, who was still standing where 
he had left him, he violently shook his fist in the air. 

“ Which means/’ said Lawrence to himself, u that he 
intends to make trouble with Keswick.” 

“ That settled him,” said the old lady, with a grim 
smile, as she lowered the barrels of the gun and gently 
let down the hammers. 

“ Madam,” said Lawrence, advancing towards her, 
u may I ask if that gun is loaded? ” 

“ I should say so,” replied the old lady. “ In each 
barrel are two thimblefuls of powder, and half a box 
of Windfall’s Teaberry Tonic Pills, each one of them 
as big and as hard as a buckshot. They were brought 
here by a travelling agent, who sold some of them to 
my people ; and I tell you, sir, that those pills made 
them so sick that one man wasn’t able to work for two 
days, and another for three. I vowed if that agent ever 
came back, I’d shoot his abominable pills into him, and 
I’ve kept the gun loaded for the purpose. Was this 
a pill man? I scarcely think he was a fertilizer, be- 
cause it is rather late in the season for those bandits.” 

“ He is a man,” said Lawrence, coming up the steps, 
“ who belongs to a class much worse than those you 
have mentioned. He is what is called a blackmailer.” 


203 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Is that so ? ” cried the old lady, her eyes flashing 
as she brought the butt of the gun heavily upon the 
porch floor. “ I’m very glad I did not know it— very 
glad, indeed ; for I might have been tempted to give 
him what belonged to another, without waiting for 
him to disobey my order to go. I am very much 
troubled, sir, that this annoyance should have hap- 
pened to you in my house. Pray do not allow it to 
interfere with the enjoyment of your visit here, which 
I hope may continue as long as you can make it con- 
venient.” 

The words and manner convinced Lawrence that 
they did not merely indicate a conventional hospi- 
tality. The old lady meant what she said. She 
wanted him to stay. 

That morning he had become convinced that he had 
been invited there because Mrs. Keswick wished him 
to marry Miss March ; and she had done this, not out 
of any kind feeling towards him, because that would be 
impossible considering the shortness of their acquaint- 
ance, but because she was opposed to her nephew’s 
marriage with Miss March, and because he, Lawrence, 
was the only available person who could be brought 
forward to supplant him. “ But whatever her motive 
is,” thought Lawrence, “her invitation comes in ad- 
mirably for me, and I hope I shall get the proper 
advantage from it.” 

Shortly after this, Lawrence sat in the parlor, by 
himself, writing a letter. It was to Junius Keswick, 
and in it he related the facts of his search for him in 
Kew York, and the reason why he desired to make 
his acquaintance. He concealed nothing but the fact 
that Keswick’s cousin had had anything to do with 
204 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


the affair. “If she wants him to know that,” he 
thought, “ she can tell him herself. It is not my busi- 
ness to make any revelations in that quarter.” He 
concluded the letter by informing Mr. Keswick of the 
visit of the anti-detective, and warning him against 
any attempts which that individual might make upon 
his pocket, assuring him that the man could tell him 
nothing in regard to the affair that he now did not 
know. 

After dinner, during which meal Miss March ap- 
peared in a very good humor, and talked rather more 
than she had yet done in the bosom of that family, 
Lawrence had his horse saddled, and rode to the rail- 
road-station, about six miles distant, where he posted 
his letter, and also sent a telegram to Mr. Junius 
Keswick, warning him to pay no attention to any man 
who might call upon him on business connected with 
Croft and Keswick, and stating that an explanatory 
letter had been sent. 

The anti-detective had left on a train an hour before, 
but Lawrence felt certain that the telegram would 
reach Keswick before the man could possibly get to 
him, especially as the latter had probably not yet 
found out his intended victim’s address. 


205 


CHAPTER XVIII 

As Lawrence Croft rode back to Mrs. Keswick’s house, 
after having posted to his rival the facts in the case of 
Croft after Keswick, he did not feel in a very happy 
or triumphant mood. The visit of the anti-detective 
had compelled him to write to Keswick at a time when 
it was not at all desirable that he should make any 
disclosures whatever in regard to his love-affair with 
Miss March, except that very important disclosure 
which he had made to the lady herself that morning. 
Of course there was no great danger that any intima- 
tion would reach Miss March of Mr. Croft’s rather 
eccentric search for his predecessor in the position 
which he wished to occupy in her affections. But the 
matter was particularly unpleasant just now, and Law- 
rence wished to occupy his time here in business very 
different from that of sending explanations to rivals 
and warding off unfriendly entanglements threatened 
by a blackmailer. 

It was absolutely necessary for him to find out what 
he had done to offend Miss March. Offended that lady 
certainly was, and he even felt that she was glad of 
the opportunity his declaration gave her to inflict 
punishment upon him. But still he did not despair. 
When she had made him pay the penalty she thought 
206 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


proper for whatever error he had committed, she might 
be willing to listen to him. He had not said anything 
to her in regard to his failure to make her the prom- 
ised visit at Midbranch, for, during the only time he 
had been alone with her here, the subject of an im- 
mediate statement of his feelings towards her had 
wholly occupied his mind. But it now occurred to 
him that she had reason to feel aggrieved at his failure 
to keep his promise to her, and she must have shown 
that feeling, for, otherwise, her most devoted friend, 
Mr. Junius Keswick, would never have made that 
rather remarkable visit to him at the Green Sulphur 
Springs. Of course he would not allude to that visit, 
nor to her wish to see him, for she had sent him no 
message, nor did he know what object she had in de- 
siring an interview. But it was quite possible that 
she might have taken umbrage at his failure to come 
to her when expected, and that this was the reason for 
her present treatment of him. To this treatment 
Lawrence might have taken exception, but now he 
did not wish to judge her in any way. His only de- 
sire in regard to her was to possess her, and therefore, 
instead of condemning her for her unjust method of 
showing her resentment, he merely considered how he 
should set himself right with her. Cruel or kind, just 
or unjust, he wanted her. 

And then, as he slowly trotted along the lonely and 
uneven road, it suddenly flashed upon him— as if, in 
mounting a hill, a far-reaching landscape, hitherto 
unseen, had in a moment spread itself out before him 
—that perhaps Miss March had divined the reason of 
his extremely discreet behavior towards her. Was it 
possible that she had seen his motives, and knew the 
207 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


truth, and that she resented the prudence and caution 
he had shown in his intercourse with her ? 

If she had read the truth, he felt that she had good 
reason for her resentment, and Lawrence did not 
trouble himself to consider if she had shown too much 
of it or not. He remembered the story of the defeated 
general, and, feeling that so far he had been thoroughly 
defeated, he determined to admit the fact, and to sound 
a retreat from all the positions he had held, but, at 
the same time, to make a bold dash into the enemy’s 
camp, and, if possible, capture the commander-in-chief 
and the minister of war. 

He would go to Roberta, tell her all that he had 
thought, and explain all that he had done. There 
should be no bit of truth which she could have rea- 
soned out, which he would not plainly avow and set 
before her. Then he would declare to her that his 
love for her had become so great that, rushing over 
every barrier, whether of prudence, doubt, or inde- 
cision, it had carried him with it and laid him at her 
feet. When he had come to this bold conclusion, he 
cheered up his horse with a thump of his heel, and 
cantered rapidly over the rest of the road. 

Peggy, having nothing else to do, was standing by 
the yard gate when he came in sight, and she watched 
his approach with feelings of surprise and disgust. 
She had seen him ride away, and not considering the 
fact that he did not carry his valise with him, she 
supposed he had taken his final departure. She had 
conceived a violent dislike to Mr. Croft, looking upon 
him in the light of an interloper and a robber, who 
had come to break up that expected marriage between 
Master Junius and Miss Rob, which the servants at 
208 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Midbranch looked forward to as necessary for the 
prosperity of the family, and the preliminary stages 
of which she had taken upon herself the responsibility 
of describing with so much minuteness of detail. W i th 
the politeness natural to the Southern negro, she opened 
the gate for the gentleman, but as she closed it behind 
him, she cast after him a look of earnest malevolence. 
“ Ef dat ole Miss Keswick don’ kunjer you, sah,” she 
said in an undertone, “ I’se gwine to do it myse’f. So 
dar ! ” And she gave her foot a stamp on the ground. 

Lawrence, ignorant of the malignant feeling he 
had excited in this, to him, very unimportant and 
uninteresting black girl, tied his horse and went into 
the house. As he passed the open door of the parlor 
he saw a lady reading by a window in the farthest 
corner. Hanging up his hat, he entered, hoping that 
the reader, whose form was partially concealed by the 
back of the large rocking-chair in which she was sit- 
ting, was Miss March. But it was not ; it was Mrs. 
Keswick’s niece, deeply engrossed in a large-paged 
novel. She turned her head as he entered, and said : 
u Good evening.” 

“ Good evening, Miss Annie,” said Lawrence, seat- 
ing himself in a chair opposite her on the other side 
of the window. 

“ Mr. Croft,” said she, laying her book on her lap, 
and inclining herself slightly towards him, “ you have 
no right to call me Miss Annie, and I wish you would 
not do it. The servants in the South call ladies by 
their first names, whether they are married or not, but 
people would think it very strange if you should imi- 
tate them. My name in this house is Mrs. Hull, and 
I wish you would not forget it.” 

209 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“The trouble with me is,” said Lawrence, with a 
smile, “ that I cannot forget it is not Mrs. Null, but, of 
course, if you desire it, I will give you that name.” 

“ I told you before how much I desired it,” said she, 
“and why. When my aunt finds out the exact state 
of this affair, I shall wish to stay no longer in this 
house, and I don’t want my stay to come to an end at 
present. I am very happy here with the only rela- 
tives I have in the world, who are ever so much nicer 
people than I supposed they were, and you have no 
right to come here and drive me away.” 

“ My dear young lady,” said Croft, “ I wouldn’t do 
such a thing for the world. I admit that I am very 
sorry that it is necessary, or appears to you to be so, 
that you should be here under false colors, but—” 

“ Appears to be,” said she, with much emphasis on 
the first word. “ Why, can’t you see that it would be 
impossible for me, as a young unmarried woman, to 
come to the house of a man whose proprietor, as Aunt 
Keswick considers herself to be, has been trying to 
marry to me, even before I was grown up?— for the 
letters that used to make my father most angry were 
about this. I hate to talk of these family affairs, and 
I only do it so that you can be made to understand 
things.” 

“ Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, “ do not think I wish 
to blame you. You have had a hard time of it, and I 
can see the peculiarities of your residence here. Don’t 
be afraid of me ; I will not betray your secret. While 
I am here I will address you, and will try to think of 
you, as a very grave young matron. But I wish very 
much that you were not quite so grave and severe 
when you address me. When I was here last week 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


your manner was very different. We were quite 
friendly then.’ 7 

“ I see no particular reason,” said Annie, “ why we 
should be friendly.” 

“Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, after a little pause, 
during which he looked at her attentively, “ I don’t 
believe you approve of me.” 

“No,” said she, “I don’t.” 

He could not help smiling at the earnest directness 
of her answer, though he did not like it. “I am sorry,” 
he said, “ that you should have so poor an opinion of 
me. And now, let me tell you what I was going to 
say this morning : that my only object in finding your 
cousin was to know the man who had been engaged to 
Miss March.” 

“ So that you could find out what she probably ob- 
jected to in him, and could then try and not let her 
see anything of that sort in you.” 

“Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, “you are unjust. 
There is no reason why you should speak to me in 
this way.” 

“I would like to know,” she said, “what cause 
there could possibly be for your wanting to become 
acquainted with a man who had been engaged to 
the lady you wished to marry, if you didn’t intend to 
study him up, and try to do better yourself.” 

“ My motive in desiring to become acquainted with 
Mr. Keswick,” said Lawrence, “is one you could 
scarcely understand, and all I can say about it is that 
I believed that if I knew the gentleman who had 
formerly been the accepted lover of a lady, I should 
better know the lady.” 

“You must be awfully suspicious,” said she. 

211 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“No, I am not,” he answered, “and I knew you 
would not understand me. My only desire in speak- 
ing to you upon this subject is that you may not un- 
reasonably judge me.” 

“But I am not unreasonable,” said Annie. “You 
are trying to get Miss March away from my cousin ; 
and I don’t think it is fair, and I don’t want you to 
do it. When you were here before, I thought you 
two were good friends, but now I don’t believe it.” 

How friendly might be the relations between himself 
and Keswick when the latter should read his letter 
about the Candy affair, and should know that he was 
in this house with Miss March, Lawrence could not 
say ; but he did not allude to this point in his com- 
panion’s remarks. “I do not think,” he said, “that 
you have any reason to object to my endeavoring to 
win Miss March. Even if she accepts me, it will be 
to the advantage of your cousin, because if he still 
hopes to obtain her, the sooner he knows he cannot do 
so, the better it will be for him. My course is per- 
fectly fair. I am aware that the lady is not at present 
engaged to any one, and I am endeavoring to induce 
her to engage herself to me. If I fail, then I step 
aside.” 

“Entirely aside, and out of the way?” asked Mrs. 
Null. 

“ Entirely,” answered Lawrence. 

“Well,” said Annie, leaning back in her chair, in 
which before she had been sitting very upright, “ you 
have at last given me a good deal of your confidence— 
almost as much as I gave you. Some of the things you 
say I believe, others I don’t.” 

Lawrence was annoyed, but he would not allow him- 
212 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


self to get angry. “I am not accustomed to being 
disbelieved,” he said gravely. “It is a very unusual 
experience, I assure you. Which of my statements 
do you doubt?” 

“ I don’t believe,” said Annie, “ that you will give 
her up if she rejects you while you are here. You are 
too wilful. You will follow her, and try again.” 

“ Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, “ I do not feel justified 
in speaking to a third person of these things, but this 
is a peculiar case, and therefore I assure you, and re- 
quest you to believe me, that if Miss March shall now 
positively refuse me, I shall feel convinced that her 
affections are already occupied, and that I have no 
right to press my suit any longer.” 

“ Would you like to begin now ? ” said Annie. “ She 
is coming down-stairs.” 

“You are entirely too matter-of-fact,” said Law- 
rence, smiling in spite of himself, and in a moment 
Roberta entered the room. 

If the young lady in the high-backed rocking-chair 
had any idea of giving Mr. Croft and Miss March an 
opportunity of expressing their sentiments towards 
each other, she took no immediate steps to do so : for 
she gently rocked herself ; she talked about the novel 
she had been reading ; she blamed Miss March for 
staying so long in her room on such a beautiful after- 
noon $ and she was the primary cause of a conversation 
among the three upon the differences between New 
York weather and that of Virginia ; and this continued 
until old Mrs. Keswick joined the party, and changed 
the conversation to the consideration of the fact that 
a fertilizer agent, a pill man, or a blackmailer would 
find out a person’s whereabouts, even if he were at- 
213 


THE LATE MRS, NULL 

tending the funeral of his grandmother on a desert 
island. 

The next morning, about an hour after breakfast, 
Lawrence was walking up and down on the grass in 
front of the house, smoking a cigar, and troubling his 
mind. He had had no opportunity on the previous 
evening to be alone with Miss March, for the little 
party sat together in the parlor until they separated 
for bed; and so, of course, nothing was yet settled. 
He was overstaying the time he had expected to spend 
here, and he felt nervous about it. He had hoped to 
see Miss March after breakfast, but she seemed to have 
withdrawn herself entirely from observation. Perhaps 
she considered that she had sufficiently rejected him 
on the previous morning, and that she now intended, 
except when she was sure of the company of the others, 
to remain in her room until he should go away. But 
he had no such opinion in regard to their interview on 
Pine Top Hill. He believed that he had been pun- 
ished, not rejected, and that when he should be able to 
explain everything to her, he would be forgiven. That, 
at least, was his earnest hope, and hope makes us be- 
lieve almost anything. 

But although there were so many difficulties in his 
way, Lawrence had a friend in that household who 
still remained true to him. Mrs. Keswick, with sun- 
bonnet and umbrella, came out upon the porch, and 
said cheerily : “ I should think a gentleman like you 
would prefer to be with the ladies than to be walking 
about here by yourself. They have gone to take a 
walk in the woods. I should have said that Miss 
March has gone on ahead, with her little maid Peggy. 
My niece was going with her, but I called her back to 
214 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


attend to some housekeeping matters for me, and I 
think she will be kept longer than she expected, for I 
have just sent Letty to her to be shown how to cut out 
a frock. But you needn’t wait ; you can go right 
through the flower-garden, and take the path over the 
fields into the woods.” And having concluded this 
bit of conscienceless and transparent management, the 
old lady remarked that she herself was going for a 
walk, and left him. 

Lawrence lost no time in following her suggestions. 
Throwing away his cigar, he hurried through the 
house and the little flower-garden, a gate at the back 
of which opened into a wide pasture-field. This field 
sloped down gently to a branch, or little stream, which 
ran through the middle of it, and then the ground 
ascended until it reached the edge of the woods. Fol- 
lowing the well-defined path, he looked across the 
little valley before him, and could see, just inside the 
edge of the woods,— the trees and bushes being much 
more thinly attired than in the summer-time,— the 
form of a lady in a light-colored dress with a red scarf 
upon her shoulders, sometimes moving slowly, some- 
times stopping. This was Roberta ; and those woods 
were a far better place than the exposed summit of 
Pine Top Hill in which to plight his troth, if it should 
be so that he should be able to do it, and there were 
doubtless paths in those woods through which they 
might afterwards wander, if things should turn out 
propitiously. At all events, in those woods would he 
settle this affair. 

His intention was still strong to make a very clean 
breast of it to Roberta. If she had blamed him for his 
prudent reserve, she should have full opportunity to 
215 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


forgive him. All that he had been she should know ; 
but, far more important than that, he would try to 
make her know, better than he had done before, what 
he was now. Abandoning all his previous positions, 
and mounted on these strong resolutions, thus would 
he dash into her camp, and hope to capture her. 

Reaching the little ravine, at the bottom of which 
flowed the branch, now but two or three feet wide, he 
ran down the rather steep slope, and stepped upon the 
stout plank which bridged the stream. The instant he 
did so, the plank turned beneath him as if it had been 
hung on pivots, and he fell into the stony bed of the 
branch. It was an awkward fall, for the leg which 
was undermost came down at an angle, and his foot, 
striking a slippery stone, turned under him. In a 
moment he was on his feet, and scrambled up the side 
of the ravine down which he had just come. When 
he reached the top he sat down and put both his hands 
on his right ankle, in which he felt considerable pain. 
In a few minutes he arose and began to walk towards 
the house ; but he had not taken a dozen steps before 
he sat down again. The pain in his ankle was very 
severe, and he felt quite sure that he had sprained it. 
He knew enough about such things to understand that 
if he walked upon this injured joint, he would not only 
make the pain worse, but the consequences might be 
serious. He was very much annoyed, not only that 
this thing had happened to him, but that it had hap- 
pened at such an inauspicious moment. Of course he 
could not now go on to the woods, and he must get some- 
body to help him to the house. Looking about, he saw, 
at a distance, Uncle Isham, and he called loudly to him. 

As soon as Lawrence was well away from the edge 
216 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


of the ravine, there emerged from some thick bushes 
on the other side of it, and at a short distance from 
the crossing-place, a negro girl, who slipped noiselessly 
down to the branch, moved with quick steps and 
crouching body to the plank, removed the two round 
stones on which it had been skilfully poised, and re- 
placed it in its usual firm position. This done, she 
slipped back into the bushes, and by the time Isham 
had heard the call of Mr. Croft, she was slowly walking 
down the opposite hill, as if she were coming from the 
woods to see why the gentleman was shouting. 

Miss March also heard the call, and came out of the 
woods, and when she saw Lawrence sitting on the grass 
on the other side of the branch, with one hand upon 
his ankle, she knew that something had happened, and 
came down towards him. Lawrence saw her approach- 
ing, and before she was even near enough to hear him, 
he began to shout to her to be careful about crossing 
the branch, as the board was unsafe. Peggy joined 
her, and walked on in front of her ; and when Miss 
March understood what Lawrence was saying, she 
called back that she would be careful. When they 
reached the ravine, Peggy ran down, stepped upon the 
plank, jumped on the middle of it, walked over it and 
then back again, and assured her mistress that it was 
just as good as ever it was, and that she reckoned the 
city gentleman didn’t know how to walk on planks, 
and that “he jes done fall off.” 

Miss March crossed, stepping a little cautiously, and 
reached Lawrence just as Uncle Isham, with strong 
arms and many words of sympathy, had assisted him 
to his feet. “ What has happened to you, Mr. Croft ? ” 
she exclaimed. 


217 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ I was coming to you/’ he said, “and in crossing 
the stream the plank turned under me, and I am afraid 
I have sprained my ankle. I can’t walk on it.” 

“ I am very sorry,” she said. 

“Because I was coming to you,” he said grimly, 
“ or because I hurt myself? ” 

“You ought to be ashamed to speak in that way,” 
she answered ; “ but I won’t find fault with you, now 
that you are in such pain. Is there anything I can 
do for you?” 

“No, thank you,” said Lawrence. “I will lean on 
this good man, and I think I can hop to the house.” 

“Peggy,” said Miss Roberta, “walk on the other 
side of the gentleman, and let him lean upon your 
shoulder. I will go on and have something prepared 
to put on his ankle.” 

With one side supported by the stout Isham, and 
his other hand resting on the shoulder of the good 
little Peggy, who bore up as strongly under it as if she 
had been a big walking-stick, Lawrence slowly made 
his way to the house. Miss March got there some time 
before he did, and was very glad to find that Mrs. 
Keswick had not yet gone out on the walk for which 
she was prepared. That circumspect old lady had 
found this and that to occupy her, while she so man- 
aged her household matters that one thing should 
follow another to detain her niece. But when she 
heard what had happened, all other impulses gave 
way to those which belonged to a head nurse and a 
mistress of emergencies. She set down her umbrella $ 
shouted an order to Letty to put a kettle of water on 
the fire $ brought from her own room some flannel and 
two bottles of embrocation ; and then, stopping a mo- 
218 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


ment to reflect, ordered that the office should be pre- 
pared for Mr. Croft, for it would be a shame to make 
a gentleman with a sprained ankle clamber up -stairs. 

The office was a small building in the wide front 
yard, not very far from the house, and opposite to the 
arbor which has been before mentioned. It was one 
story high, and contained one large and comfortable 
room. Such buildings are quite common on Virginia 
farms, and, although called offices, are seldom used in 
an official way, being generally appropriated to the 
bachelors of the family or their gentleman visitors. 
This one was occupied by Junius Keswick when he 
was at home, and a good many of his belongings were 
now in it ; but as it was at present unoccupied, noth- 
ing could be more proper than that Mr. Croft should 
have it. 


219 


CHAPTER XIX 


About noon of the day of Mr. Croft’s accident, Uncle 
Isham had occasion to go to the cabin of the venerable 
Aunt Patsy, and of course he told her what had hap- 
pened to the gentleman whom he and Aunt Patsy still 
supposed to be Miss Annie’s husband. The news pro- 
duced a very marked effect upon the old woman. She 
put down the crazy-quilt, upon the unfinished corner 
of which she was making a few feeble stitches, and 
looked at Uncle Isham with a troubled frown. She 
was certain that this was the work of old Mrs. Keswick, 
who had succeeded, at last, in conjuring the young 
husband j and the charm she had given him, and upon 
which she had relied to avert the ill will of “ ole miss,” 
had proved unavailing. The conjuring had been ac- 
complished so craftily and slyly, the bewitched plank 
in one place and Mrs. Keswick far off in another, that 
there had been no chance to use the counteracting 
charm. And yet Aunt Patsy had thought it a good 
charm— a very good one indeed. 

Early in her married life Mrs. Keswick had been the 
mother of a little girl. It had died when it was very 
small, and it was the only child she ever had. Of this 
infant she preserved, as a memento, a complete suit 
of its clothes, which she regarded with a feeling almost 
220 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


religions. Years ago, however. Aunt Patsy, in order 
to protect herself against the conjuring powers of the 
mistress of the house, in which she then served as a 
sort of supervising cook, had possessed herself of the 
shoes belonging to the cherished suit of clothes. She 
knew the sacred light in which they were regarded by 
their owner, and she felt quite sure that if u ole miss ” 
ever attempted, in one of her fits of anger, to exercise 
her power of limb-twisting or back-contortion upon 
her, that the sight of those little blue shoes would 
create a revulsion of feeling, and, as she put it to her- 
self, u stop her mighty short.” The shoes had never 
been missed, for the box containing the suit was only 
opened on one day of the year, and then all the old 
lady could endure was a peep at the little white frock 
which covered the rest of the contents ; and Aunt 
Patsy well knew that the sight of those little blue shoes 
would be to her mistress like two little feet coming 
back from the grave. 

Patsy had been much too old to act as nurse to the 
infant Annie Peyton, then regarded as the daughter 
of the house, but she had always felt for the child the 
deepest affection ; and now that she herself was so near 
the end of her career that she had little fear of being 
bewitched, she was willing to give up the safeguards 
she had so long possessed, in order that they might 
protect the man whom Miss Annie had loved and mar- 
ried. But they had failed, or rather it had been im- 
possible to use them, and Miss Annie’s husband had 
been stricken down. 

“ It’s pow’ful hard to git roun’ ole miss,” she groaned. 
“ She too much fur ole folks like I is.” 

At this remark Uncle Isham fired up. Although 
221 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


the conduct of his mistress troubled him at times very 
much, he was intensely loyal to her, and he instantly 
caught the meaning of this aspersion against her. 
“ Now, look h’yar, Aun’ Patsy ! ” he exclaimed, “ wot 
you talkin’ ’bout? Wot ole miss got to do wid Mister 
CroP sprainin’ he ankle? Ole miss warn’t dar ; an’ 
when I done fotch him up to de house, she cut roun’ 
an’ do more fur him dan anybody else. She got de 
hot water, an’ she dipped de flannels in it, an’ she wrop 
up de ankle all herse’f ; an’ when she got him all fixed 
comf’able in de office, she says to me, says she : 4 Now, 
Isham, you wait on Mister CroP, an’ you gib him 
eberything he want ; an’ when de cool ob de ebenin’ 
comes on you make a fire in dat fireplace, an’ stay 
whar he kin call you whenebber he wants you to wait 
on him.’ I didn’t eben come down h’yar till I axed 
him would he want me fur half an hour.” 

u Well,” said Aunt Patsy, her eyes softening a little, 
“ p’r’aps she didn’t do it dis time. It mought ’a’ been 
his own orkardness. I hopes to mussiful goodness dat 
dat was so. But wot fur you call him Mister CroP ? 
Is dat he fus’ name?” 

11 1 reckon so,” said Isham. “ He one ob de fam’ly 
now, an’ I reckon dey calls him by he fus’ name. An’ 
now, look h’yar, Aun’ Patsy, I wants you not to dis- 
remember dis h’yar. Don’ you go imaginin’, ebery 
time anything happens to folks, dat ole miss done 
been kunjerin’ ’em. Dat ain’t pious, an’ ’tain’t suitable 
fur a ole pusson like you, Aun’ Patsy, wots jes settin’ 
on de poach steps ob heaben, a- waitin’ till somebody 
finds out you’s dar an’ lets you in.” 

Aunt Patsy turned her great spectacles full upon 
him, and then she said : “ You Isham, ef ebber you gits 
222 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


a call to preach to folks, you jes sing out : 1 Oh, Lor’, 
I ain’t fit ! ’ And den you go crack your head wid a 
millstone, fur fear you git called ag’in, fru mistake.” 

Uncle Isham made no answer to this piece of advice, 
but taking up some clothes which Aunt Patsy’s great- 
granddaughter had washed and ironed for him, he left 
the cabin. He was a man much given to attending to 
his own business, and paying very little attention to 
those affairs of his mistress’s household with which he 
had no personal concern. When Mr. Croft first came 
to the house, he, as well as Aunt Patsy, had been told 
that it was Mr. Hull, the husband of Miss Annie, and 
although not thinking much about it, he had always 
supposed this to be the case. But now it struck him 
as a very strange thing that Miss Annie did not attend 
to her husband, but allowed his mistress and himself 
to do everything that was done for him. It was a 
question which his mind was totally incapable of 
solving ; but when he reached the house, he spoke 
to Letty on the subject. 

“ Bress your soul ! ” exclaimed that well-nourished 
person, “ dat’s not Mister Hull, wot married Miss 
Annie. Dat’s Mister Crof’, an’ he ain’t married to 
nobody. Mister Hull he ain’t come yet, but I reckon 
he’ll be along soon.” 

“Well, den,” exclaimed Isham, much surprised, 
“how come Aun’ Patsy to take he fur Miss Annie’s 
husband ? ” 

“Oh, git out!” contemptuously exclaimed Letty. 
« Don’ you go put no ’count on dem fool notions wot 
Aun’ Patsy got in she ole head. Hobody knows how 
dey come dar, no more’n how dey ebber manage to git 
out. ’Tain’t no use ’splainin’ nothin’ to Aun’ Patsy, 
223 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


an’ if she b’lieves dat’s Miss Annie’s husband, you 
can’t make her b’lieve it’s anybody else. Jes you lef 
her alone. Nuffin she b’lieves ain’t gwine to hurt 
her.” 

And Isham, remembering his frequent ill success in 
endeavoring to make Aunt Patsy think as she ought 
to think, concluded that this was good advice. 

At the time of the conversation just mentioned, 
Lawrence was sitting in a large easy-chair in front of 
the open door of the room of which he had been put 
in possession. His injured foot was resting upon a 
cushioned stool ; a small table stood by him, on which 
were his cigar- and match-cases, a pitcher of iced water 
and a glass, and a late copy of a semi-weekly paper. 
Through the doorway, which was but two steps higher 
than the grass sward before it, his eyes fell upon a very 
pleasing scene. To the right was the house, with its 
vine-covered porch and several great oak-trees over- 
hanging it, which still retained their heavy foliage, 
although it was beginning to lose something of its 
summer green. In front of him, at the opposite end 
of the grassy yard, was the pretty little arbor in which 
he had told Mr. Junius Keswick of the difficulties in 
the way of his speaking his mind to Miss March. Be- 
yond the large garden, at the back of this arbor, 
stretched a wide field with a fringe of woods at its 
distant edge, gay with the colors of autumn. The sky 
was bright and blue, and fair white clouds moved 
slowly over its surface ; the air was sunny and warm, 
with bumblebees humming about some late-flowering 
shrubs ; and high in the air floated two great turkey- 
buzzards, with a beauty of motion surpassed by no 
other flying thing, with never a movement of their 
224 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


wide spread wings, except to give them the necessary 
inclination as they rose with the wind, and then turned 
and descended in a long sweep, only to rise again and 
complete the circle — sailing thus for hours, around and 
around, their shadows moving over the fields below 
them. 

Fearing that he had sustained some injury more than 
a mere sprain, Lawrence had had the Howlett’s doctor 
summoned, and that general practitioner had come 
and gone, after having assured Mr. Croft that no bones 
had been broken, that Mrs. Keswick’s treatment was 
exactly what it should be, and that all that was neces- 
sary for him was to remain quiet for a few days, and 
be very careful not to use the injured ankle. Thus 
he had the prospect of but a short confinement ; he 
felt no present pain,* and there was nothing of the 
sick-room atmosphere in his surroundings, for his 
position close to the door almost gave him the advan- 
tage of sitting in the open air of this bright autumnal 
day. 

But Lawrence’s mind dwelt not at all on these 
ameliorating circumstances; it dwelt only upon the 
fact that he was in one house and Miss March was in 
another. It was impossible for him to go to her, and 
he had no reason to believe that she would come to 
him. Under ordinary circumstances it would be natu- 
ral enough for her to look in upon him and inquire 
into his condition, but now the case was very different. 
She knew that he desired to see her, that he had been 
coming to her when he met with his accident, and she 
knew, too, exactly what he wanted to say ; and it was 
not to be supposed that a lady would come to a man 
to be wooed, especially this lady, who had been in such 
225 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

an unfavorable humor when he had wooed her the day 
before. 

But it was quite impossible for Lawrence, at this 
most important crisis of his life, to sit without action 
for three or four days, during which time it was not 
unlikely that Miss March might go home. But what 
was he to do ? It would be ridiculous to think of send- 
ing for her, she knowing for what purpose she was 
wanted ; and as for writing a letter, that did not suit 
him at all. There was too much to be explained, too 
much to be urged, too much to be avowed, and prob- 
ably too many contingencies to be met, for him to 
even consider the subject of writing a letter. A pro- 
posal on paper would most certainly bring a rejection 
on paper. He could think of no plan ; he must trust 
to chance. If his lucky star— and it had shone a good 
deal in his life— should give him an opportunity of 
speaking to her, he would lose not an instant in broach- 
ing the important subject. He was happy to think 
he had a friend in the old lady. Perhaps she might 
bring about the desired interview. But although this 
thought was encouraging, he could not but tremble 
when he remembered the very plain and unvarnished 
way she had of doing such things. 

While these thoughts were passing through his mind, 
a lady came out upon the porch and descended the 
steps. At the first sight of her through the vines, 
Lawrence had thought it might be Miss March, and 
his heart had given a jump. But it was not ; it was 
Mrs. Null ; and she came over the grass towards him, 
and stopped in front of his door. “ How are you feel- 
ing now?” she asked. “Does your foot still hurt 
you ? ” 


226 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Oh, no,” said Lawrence, “ I am in no pain. The 
only thing that troubles me is that I have to stay just 
here.” 

“ It might have been better on some accounts,” said 
she, “ if you had been taken into the house ; but it 
would have hurt you dreadfully to go up-stairs, unless 
Uncle Isham carried you on his back, which I don’t 
believe he could do.” 

“ Of course it’s a great deal better out here,” said 
Lawrence. “ In fact, this is a perfectly charming place 
to be laid up in. But I want to get about. I want to 
see people.” 

“ Many people? ” asked she, with a significant little 
smile. 

Lawrence smiled in return. “ You must know, Mrs. 
Null, from what I have told you,” he said, “ that there 
is one person I want to see very much, and that is why 
I am so annoyed at being kept here in this chair.” 

“You must be of an uncommonly impatient turn 
of mind,” she said, “ for you haven’t been here three 
hours altogether, and hundreds of persons sit still that 
long just because they want to.” 

“ I don’t want to sit still a minute,” said Lawrence. 
“ 1 very much wish to speak to Miss March. Couldn’t 
you contrive an opportunity for me to do so ? ” 

“ It is possible that I might,” she said, “ but I won’t. 
Haven’t I told you that I don’t approve of this affair 
of yours ? My cousin is in love with Miss March, and 
all I should do for you would be directly against him. 
Aunt so managed things this morning that I was 
actually obliged to give you an opportunity to be 
with her ; but I had intended going with Roberta to 
the woods, as she had asked me to do.” 

227 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ You are very cruel,” said Lawrence. 

“ No, I am not,” said she ; “lam only just.” 

“I explained to you yesterday,” said he, “that 
your course of thinking and acting is not just, and 
is of no possible advantage to anybody. How can it 
injure your cousin if Miss March refuses me and I go 
away and never see her again? And if she accepts 
me, then you should be glad that I had put an end 
to your cousin’s pursuit of a woman who does not 
love him.” 

“ That is nonsense,” said she. “ I shouldn’t be glad 
at all to see him disappointed. I should feel like a 
traitor if I helped you. But I did not come to talk 
about these things. I came to ask you what you 
would have for dinner.” 

“ I had an idea,” said Lawrence, not regarding this 
remark, “ that you were a young lady of a kindly dis- 
position.” 

“ And you don’t think so now ? ” she said. 

“No,” answered Lawrence, “I cannot. I cannot 
think a woman kind who will refuse to assist a man 
situated as I am to settle the most important ques- 
tion of his life, especially as I have told you before 
that it is really to the interest of the one you are 
acting for that it should be settled.” 

Miss Annie, still standing in front of the door, now 
regarded Lawrence with a certain degree of thought- 
fulness on her countenance, which presently changed 
to a half-smile. “ If I were perfectly sure,” she said, 
“that she would reject you, I would try to get her 
here, and have the matter settled ; but I don’t know 
her very well yet, and can’t feel at all certain as to 
what she might do.” 


228 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ I like your frankness,” said Lawrence, “ but, as I 
said before, you are very cruel/’ 

“ Not at all,” said she ; “ I am very kind, only—” 

“ You don’t show it,” interrupted Lawrence. 

At this Miss Annie laughed. “ Kindness isn’t of 
much use if it is shut up, is it?” she said. “I sup- 
pose you think it is one of those virtues that we 
ought to act out, as well as feel, if we want any 
credit. And now, isn’t there something I can do for 
you besides bringing another man’s sweetheart to 
you ? ” 

Lawrence smiled. “I don’t believe she is his 
sweetheart,” he said, “ and I want to find out if I 
am right.” 

“It is my opinion,” said Miss Annie, “that you 
ought to think more about your sprained ankle and 
your general health than about having your mind 
settled by Miss March. I should think that keeping 
your blood boiling, in this way, would inflame your 
joints.” 

“ The doctor didn’t tell me what to think about,” 
said Lawrence. “ He only said I must not walk.” 

“ I haven’t heard yet,” said Miss Annie, “ what you 
would like to have to eat.” 

“I don’t wish to give the slightest trouble,” an- 
swered Lawrence. “ What do you generally give peo- 
ple in such scrapes as this? Tea and toast? ” 

Annie laughed. “Nonsense,” said she. “What 
you want is the best meal you can get. Aunt said if 
there was anything you particularly liked she would 
have it made for you.” 

“Do not think of such a thing,” said Lawrence. 
“ Give me just what the family has.” 

229 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Would yon like Miss March to bring it out to 
you?” she asked. 

“ The word cruel cannot express your disposition,” 
said Lawrence. 11 1 pity Mr. Null.” 

“ Poor man,” said she ; “ but it would be a good 
thing for you if you could keep your mind as quiet 
as his is.” And with that she went into the house. 

After dinner, Miss March did come out to inquire 
into Mr. Croft’s condition, but she was accompanied by 
Mrs. Keswick. Lawrence invited the ladies to come 
in and be seated ; but Roberta stood on the grass in 
front of the door, as Miss Annie had done, while Mrs. 
Keswick entered the room, looked into the ice-water 
pitcher, and examined things generally, to see if 
Uncle Isham had been guilty of any sins of omission. 

“ Do you feel quite at ease now? ” said Miss March. 

“ My ankle doesn’t trouble me,” said Lawrence, “ but 
I never felt so uncomfortable and dissatisfied in my 
life.” And with these latter words he gave the lady 
a look which was intended to be, and which probably 
was, full of meaning to her. 

“ Wouldn’t you like some books?” said Mrs. Kes- 
wick, now appearing from the back of the room. 
“You haven’t anything to read. There are plenty 
of books in the house, but they are all old.” 

“ I think those are the most delightful of books,” 
said Miss March. “I have been looking over the 
volumes on your shelves, Mrs. Keswick. I am sure 
there are a good many of them Mr. Croft would like 
to read, even if he has read them before. There are 
lots of queer old-time histories and biographies, and 
sets of bound magazines, some of them over a hun- 
dred years old. Would you like me to select some 
230 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


for yon, Mr. Croft? Or shall I write some of the 
titles on a slip of paper, and let you select for your- 
self?” 

“I shall be delighted,” said Lawrence, “to have 
you make a choice for me 5 and I think the list 
would be the better plan, because books would be so 
heavy to carry about.” 

“I will do it immediately,” said Miss March, and 
she walked rapidly to the house. 

“ Now, then,” said Mrs. Keswick, “ I’ll put a chair 
out here on the grass, close to the door. It’s shady 
there, and I should think it would be pleasant for 
both of you if she would sit there and read to you 
out of those books. She is a fine woman, that Miss 
March— a much finer woman than I thought she 
could be, before I knew her.” 

“ She is, indeed,” said Lawrence. 

“I suppose you think she is the finest woman in 
the world ? ” said the old lady, with a genial grin. 

“ What makes you suppose so ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“Haven’t I eyes?” said Mrs. Keswick. “But you 
needn’t make any excuses. You have made an ex- 
cellent choice, and I hope you may succeed in getting 
her. Perhaps you have succeeded ? ” she added, giv- 
ing Lawrence an earnest look, with a question in it. 

Lawrence did not immediately reply. It was not 
in his nature to confide his affairs to other people, 
and yet he had done so much of it, of late, that he 
did not see why he should make an exception against 
Mrs. Keswick, who was, indeed, the only person who 
seemed inclined to be friendly to his suit. He might 
as well let her know how matters stood. “No,” he 
said, “ I have not yet succeeded, and I am very sorry 
231 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

that this accident has interfered with my efforts to 
do so.” 

“ Don’t let it interfere/’ said the old lady, her eyes 
sparkling, while her purple sunbonnet was suddenly 
and severely bobbed. “You have just as good a 
chance now as you ever had, and all you have to do 
is to make the most of it. When she comes out here 
to read to you, you can talk to her just as well as if 
you were in the woods or on top of a hill. Nobody’ll 
come here to disturb you ; I’ll take care of that.” 

“You are very kind,” said Lawrence, somewhat 
wondering at her enthusiasm. 

“I intended to go away and leave her here with 
you,” continued Mrs. Keswick, “ if I could find a good 
opportunity to do so, but she hit on the best plan 
herself. And now I’ll be off and leave the coast clear. 
I will come again before dark and put some more of 
that stuff on your ankle. If you want anything, ring 
this bell, and if Isham doesn’t hear you, somebody will 
call him. He has orders to keep about the house.” 

“You are putting me under very great obligations 
to you, madam,” said Lawrence. 

But the old lady did not stop to hear any thanks, 
and hastened to clear the coast. 

Lawrence had to wait a long time for his list of 
books, but at last it came ; and, much to his surprise 
and chagrin, Mrs. Null brought it. “Miss March 
asked me to give you this,” she said, “so that you 
can pick out just what books you want.” 

Lawrence took the paper, but did not look at it. 
He was deeply disappointed and hurt. His whole 
appearance showed it. 

“You don’t seem glad to get it,” said Miss Annie. 

232 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Lawrence looked at her, his face darkening. “ Did 
you persuade Miss March, 1 ” he said, “to stay in the 
house and let you bring this ? ” 

“ Now, Mr. Croft,” said the young lady, a very de- 
cided flush coming into her face, “ that is going too 
far. You have no right to accuse me of such a thing. 
I am not going to help in your love-affairs, but I 
don’t intend to be mean about it, either. Miss March 
asked me to bring that list, and at first I wouldn’t do 
it, for I knew, just as well as I know anything, that 
you expected her to come to you with it, and I was 
very sure you wanted to see her more than the paper. 
I refused two or three times, but she said, at last, 
that if I didn’t take it she’d send it by some one in 
the house ; so I just picked it up and brought it right 
along. I don’t like her as much as I did.” 

“Why not?” asked Lawrence. 

“ You needn’t accept a man if you don’t want him,” 
said Miss Annie, “ but there is no need of being cruel 
to him, especially when he is laid up. If she didn’t 
intend to come out to you again, she ought not to 
have made you believe so. You did expect her to 
come, didn’t you?” 

“ Most certainly,” said Lawrence, in rather a dole- 
ful tone. 

“Yes, and there is the chair she was to sit in,” said 
Miss Annie, “ while you said seven words about the 
books and ten thousand about the way your heart 
was throbbing. I see Aunt Keswick’s hand in that, 
as plain as can be. I don’t say I’d put her in that 
chair if I could do it, but I certainly am sorry she 
disappointed you so. Would you like to have any of 
those books? If you would, I’ll get them for you.” 

233 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“I am much obliged, Mrs. Null/ 7 said Lawrence, 
“but I don 7 t think I care for any books. And let me 
say that I am very sorry for the way I spoke to you 
just now. 77 

“Oh, don 7 t mention that, 77 said she. “If I 7 d been 
in your place I should have been mad enough to say 
anything. But it 7 s no use to sit here and be grumpy. 
You 7 d better let me go and get you a book. The 
‘Critical Magazine 7 for 1767 and 1768 is on that list, 
and I know there are lots of queer, interesting things 
in it, but it takes a good while to hunt them out from 
the other things for which you would not care at all. 
And then, there are all the ‘ Spectators 7 and ‘ Ram- 
blers, 7 and ‘The World Displayed 7 in eight volumes, 
which, from what I saw when I looked through it, 
seems to be a different kind of world from the one I 
live in j and there are others that you will see on 
your list. But there is one book which I have been 
reading lately, which I think you will find odder and 
funnier than any of the rest. It is the ‘ Geographical 
Grammar, 7 by Mr. Salmon. Suppose I bring you that. 
It is a description of the whole world, written more 
than a hundred years ago by an Irish gentleman who, 
I think, never went anywhere. 77 

“ Thank you, 77 said Lawrence ; “ I shall be obliged 
to you if you will be kind enough to bring me that 
one. 77 He was glad for her to go away, even for a 
little time, that he might think. The smart of the 
disappointment caused by the non-appearance of Miss 
March was beginning to subside a little. Looking at 
it more quietly and reasonably, he could see that, in 
her position, it would be actually unmaidenly for her 
to come to him by herself. It was altogether another 
234 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


thing for this other girl, and therefore perhaps it was 
quite proper to send her. But, in spite of whatever 
reasonableness there might have been in it, he chafed 
under this propriety. It would have been far better, 
he thought, if she had come and told him that she 
could not possibly accept him, and that nothing more 
must be said about it. But then, he did not believe, 
if she had given him time to say the words he wished 
to say, that she would have come to such a decision ; 
and as he called up her lovely face and figure as it 
stood framed in the open doorway, with a background 
of the sunlit arbor and fields, the gorgeous distant 
foliage, with the blue sky and its white clouds and 
circling birds, he thought of the rapture and ecstasy 
which would have come to him if she had listened to 
his words and had given him but a smile of encour- 
agement. 

But here came Mrs. Null, with a fat brown book in 
her hand. “ One of the funniest things,’ 7 she said, as 
she came to the door, “is Mr. Salmon’s chapter on 
paradoxes. He thinks it would be quite improper to 
issue a book of this kind without alluding to geograph- 
ical paradoxes. Listen to this one.” And then she 
read to him the elucidation of the apparent paradox 
that there is a certain place in this world where the 
wind always blows from the south ; and another ex- 
plaining the statement that in certain ccnnibal islands 
the people eat themselves. “ There is something he 
says about Virginia,” said she, turning over the pages, 
“ which I want you to be sure to read.” 

“ Won’t you sit down,” said Lawrence, “ and read to 
me some of those extracts? You know just where to 
find them.” 


235 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“That chair wasn’t put there for me/’ said Miss 
Annie, with a smile. 

“Nonsense,” said Lawrence. “Won’t you please 
sit down? I ought to have asked you before. Per- 
haps it is too cool for you out there.” 

“ Oh, not at all,” said she. “ The air is still quite 
warm.” And she took her seat on the chair, which 
was placed close to the door-step, and she read to him 
some of the surprising and interesting facts which Mr. 
Salmon had heard, in a Dublin coffee-house, about Vir- 
ginia and the other colonies, and also some of those 
relating to the kindly way in which slave-holders in 
South America, when they killed a slave to feed their 
hounds, would send a quarter to a neighbor, expecting 
some day to receive a similar favor in return. When 
they had laughed over these, she read some very odd 
and surprising statements about southern Europe, and 
the people of far-away lands ; and so she went on from 
one thing to another, talking a good deal about what 
she had read, and always on the point of stopping and 
giving the book to Lawrence, until the short autumnal 
afternoon began to draw to its close, and he told her 
that it was growing too chilly for her to sit out on the 
grass any longer. 

“ Very well,” said she, closing the book and handing 
it to him ; “ you can read the rest of it yourself ; and if 
you want any other books on the list, just let me know 
by TJncle Isham, and I will send them to you. He is 
coming now to see after you. I wonder,” she said, 
stopping for a moment as she turned to leave, “ if Miss 
March had been sitting in that chair, if you would have 
had the heart to tell her to go away, or if you would 
have let her sit still and take cold ? ” 


236 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Lawrence smiled, but very slightly. “That sub- 
ject,” said he, “is one on which I don’t joke.” 

“ Goodness ! ” exclaimed Miss Annie, clasping her 
hands and gazing with an air of comical commisera- 
tion at Mr. Croft’s serious face. “I should think 
not ! ” And away she went. 

Just before supper-time, when Lawrence’s door 
had been closed and his lamp lighted, there came a 
knock, and Mrs. Keswick appeared. “That plan of 
mine didn’t work,” she said ; “ but I will bring Miss 
March out here, and manage it so that she’ll have to 
stay till I come back. I have an idea about that. 
All that you have to do is to be ready when you get 
your chance.” 

Lawrence thanked her, and assured her he would 
be very glad to have a chance, although he hoped — 
without much ground for it— that Roberta would not 
see through the old lady’s schemes. 

Mrs. Keswick lotioned and rebandaged the sprained 
ankle, and then she said : “ I think it would be pleas- 
ant if we were all to come out here after supper and 
have a game of whist. I used to play whist, and 
shouldn’t mind taking a hand. You could have the 
table drawn up to your chair, and— let me see— yes, 
there are three more chairs. It won’t be like having 
her alone with you,” she said, with the cordial grin 
in which she sometimes indulged, “ but you will have 
her opposite to you for an hour, and that will be 
something.” 

Lawrence approved heartily of the whist-party, 
and assured Mrs. Keswick that she was his guardian 
angel. 

“Kot much of that,” she said; “but I have been 
237 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


told often enough that I’m a regular old match- 
maker, and I expect I am.” 

“If you make this match,” said Lawrence, “you 
will have my eternal gratitude.” 

The supper sent out to Lawrence was a very good 
one, and the anticipation of what was to follow made 
him enjoy it still more $ for his passion had now reached 
such a point that even to look at his love, although he 
could only speak to her of trumps and of tricks, would 
be a refreshing solace which would go down deep into 
his thirsty soul. 

But bedtime and old Isham came, and the whist- 
players came not. It needed no one to tell Lawrence 
whose disinclination it was that had prevented their 
coming. 

“I reckon,” said Uncle Isham, as he looked in at 
Le tty’s cabin on his way to his own, “ dat dat ar Mister 
Crof 7 ain’t much use’ to gittin’ hisse’f hurt. All de time 
I was helpin’ him go to bed he was a-growlin’ like de 
bery debbil.” 


238 


CHAPTER XX 


Although October in southern Virginia can gen- 
erally be counted upon as a very charming month, it 
must not be expected that her face will wear one con- 
tinuous smile. On the day after Lawrence Croft’s 
misadventure the sky was gray with low-hanging 
clouds, there was a disagreeable wind from the north- 
east, and the air was filled with the slight drizzle of 
rain. The morning was so cool that Lawrence was 
obliged to keep his door shut, and Uncle Isham had 
made him a small wood fire on the hearth. As he sat 
before this fire, after breakfast, his foot still upon a 
stool, and vigorously puffed at a cigar, he said to him- 
self that it mattered very little to him whether the sun 
shone, or all the rains of heaven descended, so long as 
Roberta March would not come out to him ; and that 
she did not intend to come, rain or shine, was just as 
plain as the marks on the sides of the fireplace, prob- 
ably made by the heels of Mr. Junius Keswick during 
many a long, reflective smoke. 

On second thoughts, however, Lawrence concluded 
that a rainy day was worse for his prospects than a 
bright one. If the sun shone and everything was 
fair, Miss March might come across the grassy yard, 
and might possibly stop before his open door to bid 
239 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


him good morning, and to tell him that she was sorry 
that a headache had prevented her from coming to 
play whist the evening before. But this last, he pres- 
ently admitted, was rather too much to expect, for 
he did not think she was subject to headaches, or to 
making excuses. At any rate, he might have caught 
sight of her ; and if he had, he certainly would have 
called to her, and would have had his say with her, 
even had she persisted in standing six feet from the 
door-step. But now this dreary day had shut his door 
and put an interdict upon strolls across the grass. 
Therefore it was that he must resign any opportunity, 
for that day at least, of soothing the harrowing per- 
turbations of his passion by either the comforting 
warmth of hope, or by the deadening frigidity of a 
consummated despair. This last, in truth, he did not 
expect ; but still, if it came, it would be better than 
perturbations. They must be soothed at any cost. 
But how to incur this cost was a difficult question 
altogether. So, puffing, gazing into the fire, and 
knitting his brows, he sat and thought. 

As a good-looking young man, as a well-dressed 
young man, as an educated and cultured man, as a 
man of the clubs and of society, and, when occasion 
required, as a very sensible man of business, Mr. Croft 
might be looked upon as essentially a commonplace 
personage, and in our walks abroad we meet a great 
many like him. But there dwelt within him a cer- 
tain disposition which, at times, removed him to quite 
a distance from the arena in which commonplace 
people go through their prescribed performances. 
He would come to a determination, generally quite 
suddenly, to attain a desired end in his own way, 
240 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


without any reference to traditionary or conventional 
methods ; and the more original and startling these 
plans, the better he liked it. 

This disposition it was which made Lawrence read 
with so much interest the account of the defeated 
general who made the cavalry charge into the camp 
of his victorious enemy. Defeat had been his all 
through his short campaign, and it now seemed that 
the time had come to make another bold effort to get 
the better of his bad luck. As he could not woo Miss 
March himself, he must get some one else to do it for 
him, or, if not actually to woo the lady, to get her at 
least into such a frame of mind that she would allow 
him to woo her, even in spite of his present disad- 
vantages. This would be a very bold stroke, but 
Lawrence put a good deal of faith in it. 

If Miss March were properly talked to by one of 
her own sex, she might see, as perhaps she did not 
now see, how cruel was her line of conduct towards 
him, and might be persuaded to relent, at least enough 
to allow his voice to reach her ; and that was all he 
asked for. He had not the slightest doubt that the 
widow Keswick would gladly consent to carry any 
message he chose to send to Miss March, and, more 
than that, to throw all the force of her peculiar style 
of persuasion into the support of his cause. But this, 
he knew very well, would finish the affair, and not at 
all in the way he desired. The person he wanted to 
act as his envoy was Mrs. Null. To be sure, she had 
refused to act for him ; but he thought he could per- 
suade her. She was quiet, she was sensible, and could 
talk very gently and confidingly when she chose ; she 
would say just what he told her to say, and if a con- 
241 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


tingency demanded that she should add anything, she 
would probably do it very prudently. But then, it 
would be almost as difficult to communicate with her 
as with Miss March. 

While he was thus thinking, in came the old lady, 
very cross. “You didn’t get any rubber of whist last 
night, did you?” said she, without salutatory preface. 
“ But, I can tell you, it wasn’t my fault. I did all that 
I could, and more than I ought, to make her come ; 
but she just put her foot down and wouldn’t stir an 
inch, and at last I got mad and went to bed. I don’t 
know whether she saw it or not, but I was as mad as 
hops ; and I am that way yet. I had a plan that 
would have given you a chance to talk to her, but 
that ain’t any good, now that it is raining. Let me 
look at your ankle ; I hope that is getting along all 
right, anyway.” 

While the old lady was engaged in ministering to 
his needs, he told her of his plan. He said he wished 
to send a message to Miss March by some one, and if 
he could get the message properly delivered, it would 
help him very much. 

“I’ll take it,” said she, looking up suddenly from 
the piece of soft old linen she was folding ; “ I’ll go to 
her this very minute, and tell her just what you want 
me to.” 

“Mrs. Keswick,” said Lawrence, “you are as kind 
as you can possibly be, but I do not think it would be 
right for you to go on an errand like this. Miss March 
might not receive you well, and that would annoy me 
very much. And besides, to speak frankly, you have 
taken up my cause so warmly, and have been such a 
good friend to me, that I am afraid your earnest de- 
242 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


sire to assist me might perhaps carry yon a little too 
far. Please do not misunderstand me. I don’t mean 
that you would say anything imprudent, but as you are 
kind enough to say that you really desire this match, 
it will be very natural for you to show your interest 
in it to a degree that would arouse Miss March’s 
opposition.” 

“ Yes, I see,” said the old lady, reflectively ; “ she’d 
suspect what was at the bottom of my interest. She’s 
a sharp one j I’ve found that out. I reckon it will 
be better for me not to meddle with her. I came 
very near quarrelling with her last night, and that 
wouldn’t do at all.” 

“You see, madam,” said Lawrence, well satisfied 
that he had succeeded in warding off the old lady’s 
offer without offending her, “ that I do not want any 
one to go to Miss March and make a proposal for me. 
I could do that in a letter. But I very much object 
to a letter. In fact, it wouldn’t do at all. All I wish 
is that some one, by the exercise of a little female 
diplomacy, should induce her to let me speak to her. 
Now, I think that Mrs. Null might do this very 
well.” 

“That is so,” said the old lady, who, having now 
finished her bandaging, was seated on a chair by the 
fireplace. “My niece is smart and quick, and could 
do this thing for you just as well as not. But she has 
her quips and her cranks, like the rest of us. I called 
her out of the room last night to know why she didn’t 
back me up better about the whist-party, and she 
said she couldn’t see why a gentleman who hadn’t 
been confined to the house for quite a whole day 
should be so desperately lonely that people must go 
243 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


to his room to play whist with him. It seemed to me 
exactly as if she thought that Mr. Null wouldn’t like 
it. Mr. Null, indeed ! As if his wishes and desires 
were to be considered in my house ! I never men- 
tion that man now, and Annie does not speak of him 
either. What I want is that he shall stay away just 
as long as he will ; and if he will only stay away long 
enough to make his absence what the law calls deser- 
tion, I’ll have those two divorced before they know 
it. Can you tell me, sir, how long a man must stay 
away from his wife before he can be legally charged 
with desertion?” 

“No, madam, I cannot,” said Lawrence. “The 
laws, I believe, differ in the various States.” 

“Well, I’m going to make it my business to find 
out all about it,” said Mrs. Keswick. “ Mr. Brandon 
has promised to attend to this matter for me, and I 
must write to him to know what he has been doing. 
Well, Mrs. Null and Miss March seem to be very good 
friends, and I dare say my niece could manage things 
so as to give you the chance you want. I’ll go to the 
house now, and send her over to you, so that you can 
tell her what you want her to say or do.” 

“Do you think she will come, madam?” asked 
Lawrence. 

The old lady rose to her feet, and knitted her brows 
until something like a perpendicular mouth appeared 
on her forehead. “No,” said she, “now I come to 
think of it, I don’t believe she will. In fact, I know 
she won’t. Bother take it all, sir ! What these 
young women want is a good whipping. Nothing 
else will ever bring them to their senses. What pos- 
sible difference could it make to Mr. Null whether 


244 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


she came to you and took a message for you, or 
whether she didn’t come— especially in a case like 
this, when you can’t walk or go to anybody?” 

“I don’t think it ought to make any difference 
whatever,” said Lawrence. “ In fact, I don’t believe 
it would.” 

u It’s no use talking about it, Mr. Croft,” said the 
old lady, moving towards the door. 11 1 can go to my 
niece and talk to her, but the first thing I’d know I’d 
blaze out at her, and then, as like as not, she’d blaze 
back again, and then the next thing would be that 
she’d pack up her things and go off to hunt up her 
fertilizer agent. And that mustn’t be. I don’t want 
to get myself in any snarls just now. There is noth- 
ing for you to do, Mr. Croft, but to wait till it clears 
off, so that dainty young woman can come out of 
doors ; and then I think I can manage it so that you 
can get a chance to speak to her.” 

“ I am very much obliged to you,” said Lawrence. 
“ I suppose I must wait.” 

“ I’ll see that Isham brings you a lot of dry hick- 
ory, so that you can have a cheerful fire, even if you 
can’t have cheerful company,” said Mrs. Keswick, as 
she closed the door after her. 

Lawrence looked through the window at the sky, 
which gave no promise of clearing. And then he 
gazed into the fire, and considered his case. He had 
spent a large portion of his life in considering his 
case, and therefore the operation was a familiar one 
to him. This time the case was not a satisfactory 
one. Everything in this love-affair with Miss March 
had gone on in a manner in which he had not in- 
tended, and of which he greatly disapproved. No 
245 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


one in the world could have planned the affair more 
prudently than he had planned it. He had been so 
careful not to do anything rash that he had, at first, 
concealed, even from the lady herself, the fact that he 
was in love with her, and nothing could be farther 
from his thoughts and desires than that any one else 
should know of it. And yet, how had it all turned 
out? He had taken into his confidence Mr. Junius 
Keswick, Mr. Brandon, old Mrs. Keswick, Mrs. Null, 
as she wished to be called, and, almost lastly, the lady 
herself. “ If I should lay bare my heart to the colored 
man Isham,” he said to himself, “and the old cen- 
tenarian in the cabin down there, I believe there 
would be no one else to tell. Oh, yes ; there is Candy 
and the anti-detective. By rights, they ought to 
know.” He did not include the good little Peggy in 
this category, because he was not aware that there 
was such a person. 

After about an hour of these doleful cogitations, he 
again turned to look out of his front window, which 
commanded a view of the larger house, when he saw, 
coming down the steps of the porch, a not very tall 
figure, wrapped in a waterproof cloak, with the hood 
drawn over its head. He did not see the face of the 
figure, but he thought from the light way in which it 
moved that it was Mrs. Null ; and when it stepped 
upon the grass and turned its head, he saw that he 
was right. 

“Can her aunt have induced her to come to me?” 
was Lawrence’s first thought. But his second was 
very different, for she began to walk towards the large 
gate which led out of the yard. Instantly Lawrence 
rose, and hopped on one foot to the window, where 
246 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


he tapped loudly on the glass. The lady turned, and 
then he threw up the sash. 

“ Won’t you step here, please?” he called out. 

Without answering, she immediately came over the 
wet grass to the window. 

“ I have something to say to you,” he said, “ and I 
don’t want to keep you standing in the rain. Won’t 
you come inside for a few minutes ? ” 

“ No, thank you,” said she. “ I don’t mind a slight 
rain like this. I have lived so long in the city that I 
can’t imagine how country people can bear to shut 
themselves in when it happens to be a little wet. I 
can’t stand it, and I am going out for a walk.” 

“ It is a very sensible thing to do,” said Lawrence, 
“and I wish I could go with you and have a good 
long talk.” 

“ What about? ” said she. 

“ About Miss March.” 

“ Well, I am rather tired of that subject,” she said, 
“ and so I reckon it is just as well that you should stay 
here by your fire,— I see you have one there,— and that 
I should take my walk by myself.” 

“Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, “I want to implore 
you to do a favor for me. I don’t see how it can be 
disagreeable to you, and I am sure it will confer the 
greatest possible obligation upon me.” 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“ I want you to go to Miss March, and endeavor, in 
some way,— you will know how better than I can tell 
you,— to induce her to let me have a few words with 
her. If it is only here at this open window it will 
do.” 

Mrs. Null laughed. “ Imagine,” she said, “ a woman 
247 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


putting on a waterproof and overshoes, and coming 
out in the rain, to stand with an umbrella over her 
head, to be proposed to ! That would be the funniest 
proceeding I ever heard of ! ” 

Lawrence could not help smiling, though he was 
not in the mood for it. “It may seem amusing to 
you,” he said, “but I am very much in earnest. I 
am in constant fear that she will go away while I am 
confined to this house. Do you know how long she 
intends to stay?” 

“ She has not told me,” was the answer. 

“ If you will carry it,” he said, “ I will give you a 
message for her.” 

“Why don’t you write it?” said Miss Annie. 

“I don’t want to write anything,” he said. “I 
should not know how it had been received, nor would 
it be likely to get me any satisfaction. I want a live, 
sympathetic medium, such as you are. Won’t you 
do this favor for me ? ” 

“Ho, I won’t,” said Miss Annie, her very decided 
tone appearing to give a shade of paleness to her fea- 
tures. “How often must I tell you that I will not 
help you in this thing ? ” 

“ I would not ask you,” said Lawrence, “ if I could 
help myself.” 

“ It is not right that you should ask me any more,” 
she said. “ I am not in favor of your coming here to 
court Miss March while my cousin is away, and I 
should feel like a traitor if I helped you at all, espe- 
cially if I were to carry messages to her. Of course 
I am very sorry for you, shut up here, and I will do 
anything I can to make you more comfortable and 
contented; but what you ask is too hard for me.” 

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And as she said this a little air of trouble came into 
the large eyes with which she was steadfastly regard- 
ing him. “ I don’t want to seem unkind to you, and 
I wish you would ask me something that I can do for 
you. I’ll walk down to Howlett’s and get you any- 
thing you may like to have. I’ll bring you a lot of 
novels which I found in the house, and which I ex- 
pect, anyway, you will like better than those old- 
time books. And I’ll cook you anything that is in 
the cook-book. But I really cannot go wooing for 
you, and if you ask me to do that, every time I come 
near you, I really must—” 

“My dear Mrs. Null,” interrupted Lawrence, “I 
promise not to say any more to you on this subject. 
I see it is distasteful to you, and I beg your pardon 
for having mentioned it so often. You have been 
very kind to me indeed, and I should be exceedingly 
sorry to do anything to offend you. It would be very 
bad for me to lose one of my friends, now that I am 
shut up in this box and feel so very dependent.” 

“ Oh, indeed ! ” said Miss Annie. “ But I suppose if 
you were able to step around as you used to do, it 
wouldn’t matter whether you offended me or not.” 

“Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, “you know I did not 
mean anything like that. Do you intend to be angry 
with me, no matter what I say ? ” 

“Not a bit of it,” she answered, with a little smile 
that brought back to her face that warm brightness 
which had grown upon it since she had come down 
here. “I haven’t the least wish in the world to be 
angry with you, and I promise you I won’t be, pro- 
vided you’ll stop everlastingly asking me to go about 
helping you to make love to people.” 

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Lawrence laughed. “Very good/ 7 said he. “I 
have promised to ask nothing more of that sort. Let 
us shake hands on it.” 

He stretched his hand from the window, and Miss 
Annie withdrew from the folds of her waterproof a 
very soft and white little hand, and put it into his. 
“ And now I must be off,” she said. “ Are you cer- 
tain you don’t want anything from the store at Hew- 
lett’s?” 

“ Surely you are not going as far as that,” he said. 

“Not if you don’t want anything,” she answered. 
“ Have you tobacco enough to last through your im- 
prisonment? They keep it.” 

“Now, miss,” said Lawrence, “do you want to 
make me angry by supposing I would smoke any 
tobacco that they sell in that country store?” 

“It ought to be better than any other,” said Miss 
Annie. “They grow it in the fields all about here, 
and the storekeepers can get it perfectly fresh and 
pure, and a great deal better for you, no doubt, than 
the stuff they manufacture in the cities.” 

“ When you learn to smoke,” said Lawrence, “ your 
opinion concerning tobacco will be more valuable.” 

“ Thank you,” she said ; “ and I will wait till then 
before I give you any more of it. Good morning.” 
And away she went. 

Lawrence shut down the window, and hopped back 
to the fire. “ There is my last chance gone,” said he 
to himself. “I suppose I may as well take old Mrs. 
Keswick’s advice, and wait for fair weather. But, 
even then, who can say what sort of sky Boberta 
March will show?” And not being able to answer 
this question, he put two fresh sticks on the fire, and 
250 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

then sedately sat and watched their gradual annihila- 
tion. 

As for Miss Annie, she took her walk, and stepped 
along the road as lightly and blithely as if the skies 
had been blue and the sun shining ; and almost before 
she knew it, she had reached the store at Howlett’s. 
Ascending the high steps to the porch, quite deserted 
on this damp, unpleasant morning, she entered the 
store, the proprietor of which immediately jumped 
up from the mackerel-kit at the extreme end of the 
room, where he had been sitting in converse with 
some of his neighbors, and hurried behind the counter. 

“ Have you any tea / 7 said Miss Annie, “ better than 
the kind which you usually sell to Mrs. Keswick ! 77 

“No, ma’am , 77 said he. “We send her the very 
best tea we have . 77 

“ I am not finding fault with it , 77 she said, “ but I 
thought you might have some extra kind, more ex- 
pensive than people usually buy for common use . 77 

“No, ma’am , 77 said he ; “there is fancy teas of that 
kind, but you’d have to send to Philadelphia or New 
York for them . 77 

“ How long would that take f 77 she asked. 

“ I reckon it would be four or five days before you’d 
get it, ma’am,” said the storekeeper. 

“ I am afraid,” said Miss Annie, looking reflectively 
along the counter, “that that would be too long.” 
And then she turned to go, but suddenly stopped. 
“Have you any guava jelly ! 77 she asked. 

The man smiled. “We don’t have no call for any- 
thing as fancy as that, ma’am,” he said. “Is th^re 
anything else ! 77 

“Not to-day,” answered Miss Annie, after throwing 
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a despairing glance upon the rolls of calicoes, the 
coils of clothes-lines, the battered tin boxes of tea and 
sugar, the dusty and chimneyless kerosene lamps, and 
the long rows of canned goods with their gaudy 
labels; and then she departed. 

When she had gone, the storekeeper returned to 
his seat on the mackerel-kit, and was accosted by a 
pensive neighbor in high boots, who sat upon the 
upturned end of a case of brogans. “You didn’t 
make no sale that time, Peckett,” said he. 

“ No,” said the storekeeper, “ her idees is a little 
too fancy for our stock of goods.” 

“Whar’s her husband, anyway?” asked a stout, 
elderly man in linen trousers and faded alpaca coat, 
who was seated on two boxes of pearl starch, one on 
top of the other. “ I’ve heard that he was a member 
of the legislatur’. Is that so ? ” 

“ He’s not that, you can take my word for it,” said 
Tom Peckett. “ Old Miss Keswick give me to under- 
stand that he was in the fertilizing business.” 

“ That ought to be a good thing for the old lady,” 
said the man on the starch-boxes. “ She’ll git a dis- 
count off her gwarner.” 

“ I never did see,” said the pensive neighbor on the 
brogan-case, “ how such things do git twisted. It was 
only yesterday that I met a man at Tyson’s Mill, 
who’d just come over from the Valley, and he said 
he’d seen this Mr. Holes over thar. He’s a hoss- 
doctor, and he’s going up through all the farms along 
thar.” 

“I reckon when he gits up as fur as he wants to 
go,” said the man on the starch-boxes, “he’ll come 
here and settle fur a while.” 


252 


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“ That won’t be so much help to the old lady,” said 
the storekeeper, “ for it wouldn’t pay to keep a nefly- 
in-law just to doctor one sorrel horse and a pa’r o’ 
oxen.” 

“ I reckon his wife must be ’spectin’ him,” said the 
man on the brogan-case, “ from her cornin’ after fancy 
vittles.” 

“ If he do come,” said the stout, elderly neighbor, 
“I wish you’d let me know, Tom Peckett, fur my 
black mar’ has got a hitch in her shoulder I can’t 
understand, and I’d like him to look at her.” 

The storekeeper smiled at the pensive man, and 
the pensive man smiled back at the storekeeper. 
“You needn’t trouble yourself about that young 
woman’s husband,” said Mr. Peckett. “There’ll be 
a horse-doctor coming along afore you know it, and 
he’ll attend to that old mar’ of yourn without chargin’ 
you a cent.” 


253 


CHAPTER XXI 


The second afternoon of Lawrence Croft’s confine- 
ment in the little building in Mrs. Keswick’s yard 
passed drearily enough. The sky retained its sombre 
covering of clouds, and the rain came down in a 
melancholy, capricious way, as if it were tears shed 
by a child who was crying because it was bad. The 
monotony of the slowly moving hours was broken 
only by a very brief visit from the old lady, who was 
going somewhere in the covered spring-wagon, and 
who looked in, before she started, to see if her patient 
wanted anything, and by the arrival of a bundle of 
old novels sent by Mrs. Hull. These books Lawrence 
looked over with indifferent interest, hoping to find 
one among them that was not a love-story ; but he 
was disappointed. They were all based upon, and 
most of them permeated with the tender passion, 
and Lawrence was not in the mood for reading about 
that sort of thing. A person afflicted with a disease 
is not apt to find agreeable occupation in reading hos- 
pital reports upon his particular ailment. 

The novels were put aside, and although Lawrence 
felt that he had smoked almost too much during that 
day, he was about to light another cigar, when he 
254 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


heard a carriage drive into the yard. Turning to the 
window, he saw a barouche, evidently a hired one, 
drawn by a pair of horses, very lean and bony, but 
with their heads reined up so high that they had an 
appearance of considerable spirit, and driven by a 
colored man, sitting upon a very elevated seat, with 
a jaunty air and a well-worn whip. The carriage 
drove over the grass to the front of the house,— there 
was no roadway in the yard, the short, crisp, tough 
grass having long resisted the occasional action of 
wheels and hoofe,— and there stopping, a gentleman 
with a valise got out. He paid the driver, who im- 
mediately turned the vehicle about and drove away. 
The gentleman put his foot upon the bottom step as 
if he were about to ascend, and then, apparently 
changing his mind, he picked up his valise and came 
directly towards the office, drawing a key from his 
pocket as he walked. It was Junius Keswick, and 
in a few minutes his key was heard in the lock. As 
it was not locked, the key merely rattled, and Law- 
rence called out : “ Come in.” 

The door opened, and Junius looked in, evidently 
surprised. “I beg your pardon,” said he, “I didn’t 
know you were in here.” 

“Please walk in,” said Lawrence. “I know I am 
occupying your room, and it is I who should ask your 
pardon. But you see the reason why it was thought 
well that I should not have stairs to ascend.” And 
he pointed to his bandaged foot. 

“ Have you hurt yourself? ” asked Junius, with an 
air of concern. 

And then Lawrence gave an account of his accident, 
expressing at the same time his regret that he found 

255 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

himself occupying the room which belonged to the 
other. 

“Oh, don’t mention that,” said Junius, who had 
taken a seat near the window. “There are rooms 
enough in the house, and I shall be perfectly comfort- 
able. It was quite right in my aunt to have you 
brought in here, and I should have insisted upon it 
myself if I had been at home. I expected to be 
away for a week or more, but I have now come back 
on account of your letter.” 

“Does that need explanation*?” asked Lawrence. 

“ Not at all,” said Junius. “ I had no difficulty in 
understanding it, although I must say that it sur- 
prised me. But I came because I am not satisfied 
with the condition of things here, and I wish to be 
on the spot. I do not understand why you and Miss 
March should be invited here during my absence.” 

“ That I do not understand either,” said Lawrence, 
quickly, “ and I wish to impress it on your mind, Mr. 
Keswick, that when I came here I not only expected 
to find you, but a party of invited guests. I will say, 
however, that I came with the express intention of 
meeting Miss March and having that interview with 
her which I could not have in her uncle’s house.” 

“ I was not entirely correct,” said Junius, “ when I 
said that I did not know why these rather peculiar 
arrangements had been made. My aunt is a very 
managing person, and I think I perceive her purpose 
in this piece of management.” 

“She is opposed to a marriage between you and 
Miss March?” 

“ Most decidedly,” said Junius. “ Has she told you 
so?” 


256 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ No,” said Lawrence, “ but it has gradually dawned 
upon me that such is the case. I believe she would 
be glad to have Miss March married and out of your 
way.” 

Junius made no answer to this remark, but sat 
silent for a few moments. Then he said : “ Well, 
have you settled it with Miss March?” 

“No, I have not,” said Lawrence. “If the matter 
had been decided, one way or the other, I should not 
be here. I have no right to trespass on your aunt’s 
hospitality, and I should have departed as soon as I 
had discovered Miss March’s sentiments in regard to 
me. But I have not been able to settle the matter 
at all. I had one opportunity of seeing the lady, and 
that was not a satisfactory interview. Yesterday 
morning I made another attempt, but before I could 
get to her I sprained my ankle. And here I am. I 
cannot go to her and of course she will not come to 
me. You cannot imagine how I chafe under this 
harassing restraint.” 

“ I can imagine it very easily,” said Junius. 

“The only thing I have to hope for,” said Law- 
rence, “is that to-morrow may be a fine day, and 
that the lady may come outside and give me the 
chance of speaking to her at this open door.” 

Junius smiled grimly. “ It appears to me,” he said, 
“as if it were likely to rain for several days. But 
now I must go into the house and see the family. I 
hope you believe me, sir, when I say I am sorry to 
find you in your present predicament.” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, smiling, although he did not 
feel at all gay, “for otherwise I might have been 
finally rejected and far away.” 

257 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ If you had been rejected/’ said Junius, “ I should 
have been very glad indeed to have you stay with us.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lawrence. 

“ I will look in upon you again,” said Junius, as he 
left the room. 

Lawrence’s mind, which had been in a very un- 
pleasant state of troubled restiveness for some days, 
was now thrown into a sad turmoil by this arrival of 
Junius Keswick. As he saw that tall and good-look- 
ing young man going up the steps of the house porch 
with his valise in his hand, he clinched both his fists 
as they rested on the arm of his chair, and objurgated 
the anti-detective. 

“ If it had not been for that rascal,” he said to him- 
self, u I should not have written to Keswick, and he 
would not have thought of coming back at this un- 
timely moment. The only advantage I had was a 
clear coast, and now that is gone. Of course Keswick 
was frightened when he found I was staying in the 
same house with Roberta March, and hurried back 
to attend to his own interests. The first thing he 
will do now will be to propose to her himself ; and, 
as they have been engaged once, it is as like as not 
she will take him again. If I could use this foot, I 
would go into the house this minute, and have the 
first word with her.” At this he rose to his feet and 
made a step with his sprained ankle ; but the sudden 
pain occasioned by this action caused him to sit down 
again with a groan. Lawrence Croft was not a man 
to do himself a physical injury which might be per- 
manent, if such doing could possibly be avoided, 
and he gave up the idea of trying to go into the 
house. 


258 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ I tell you what it is, Letty,” said Uncle Isham, 
when he returned to the kitchen after having carried 
Lawrence’s supper to him, “ dat ar Mister Croft in de 
office is a-gittin’ wus an’ wus in he min’ ebery day. I 
nebber seed a man more pow’ful glowerin’ dan he is 
dis ebenin’.” 

“ I reckon he j’ints is healin’ up,” said Letty. “ Dey 
tells me dat de healin’ pains mos’ gen’ rally runs into 
de min’.” 

About nine o’clock in the evening Junius Keswick 
paid Lawrence a visit, and, taking a seat by one side 
of the fireplace, accepted the offer of a cigar. 

“How are things going on in the house?” asked 
Lawrence. 

“Well,” said Keswick, speaking slowly, “as you 
know so much of our family affairs, I might as well 
tell you that they are in a somewhat upset condition. 
When I went in, I saw, at first, no one but my cousin, 
and she seemed so extraordinarily glad to see me that 
I thought something must be wrong, somewhere ; and 
when my aunt returned— she was not at home when I 
arrived— she was thrown into such a state of mind on 
seeing me that I didn’t know whether she was going 
to order me out of the house or go herself. But she 
restrained herself wonderfully, considering her prov- 
ocation ; for, of course, I have entirely disordered her 
plans by appearing here, when she had arranged 
everything for you to have Miss March to yourself. 
But, so far, the peace has been kept between us, al- 
though she scarcely speaks to me.” 

“And Miss March?” said Lawrence. “You have 
seen her ? ” 

“Yes,” said Junius; “I saw her at supper and for 
259 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

a short time afterwards, but she soon retired to her 
room.” 

“ Do you think she was disturbed by your return!” 
asked Lawrence. 

“ I won’t say that,” said Junius, “ but she was cer- 
tainly not herself. Mrs. Null tells me that she expects 
to go home to-morrow morning, having written to her 
uncle to send for her.” 

“ That is bad, bad, very bad,” said Lawrence. 

After that there was a pause in the conversation, 
during which Mr. Croft, with brows very much knit, 
gazed steadfastly into the fire. “Mr. Keswick,” he 
said presently, “what you tell me fills me with con- 
sternation. It is quite plain that I shall have no 
ehance to see Miss March ; and as there is no one else 
in the world who will do it for me, I am going to ask 
you to go to her to-morrow morning, and speak to 
her in my behalf.” 

When this had been said, Junius Keswick dropped 
his cigar upon the floor, and sat up very straight in 
his chair, gazing fixedly at Lawrence. “Upon my 
word ! ” he said. “ I knew you were a cool man, but 
that request freezes my imagination. I cannot con- 
ceive how any man can ask another to try to win for 
him a lady whom he knows the other man desires to 
win for himself. You have made some requests be- 
fore that were rather astounding, but this one over- 
shadows them all.” 

“I admit,” said Lawrence, “that what I ask is 
somewhat out of the way, but you must consider the 
circumstances. Suppose I had met you in mortal 
combat, and I had dropped my sword where you 
could reach it and I could not; would you pick 
260 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


it up and give it to me, or would you run me 
through ? ” 

“ 1 don’t think that comparison is altogether a good 
one,” said Junius. 

“Yes, it is,” said Lawrence, “and covers the case 
entirely. I am here, disabled, and if you pick up my 
sword, as I have just asked you to do, it is not to be 
assumed that your action gives me the victory. It 
merely gives me an equal chance with yourself.” 

“Do you mean,” said Junius, “that you want me 
to go to Miss March and deliberately ask her if she 
will marry you ? ” 

“No,” said Lawrence, “I have done that myself. 
But there are certain points in regard to which I 
want to be set right with Miss March. And now I 
wish you to understand me, Mr. Keswick. I speak to 
you, not only as a generous and honorable man, which 
I have found you to be, but as a rival. I cannot 
believe that you would be willing to profit by my 
present disadvantages, and, as I have said two or 
three times before, it would certainly be for your 
interest, as a suitor for the lady, to have this matter 
settled.” 

“Wouldn’t it be better, then,” said Junius, “if I 
were to go immediately and speak to her for my- 
self?” 

“ No,” said Lawrence ; “ I don’t think that would 
settle the affair at all. From what I understand of 
your relations with Miss March, she knows you are 
her lover, and yet she neither accepts nor declines 
you. If you were to go to her now, it is not likely 
she would give you any definite answer. But in re- 
gard to me, it would be different. She would say yes 
261 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


or no. And if she made the latter answer I think 
you could walk over the course. I am not vain 
enough to say that I have been an obstacle to your 
success, but I assure you that I have tried very hard 
to make myself such an obstacle.” 

“It seems to me,” said Junius, imitating his com- 
panion in the matter of knitting his brows and gazing 
into the fire, “ that this affair could be managed very 
simply. Miss March is not going at the break of 
day. Why don’t you contrive to see her before she 
starts, and say for yourself what you have to say f ” 

“Nothing would please me better than that,” said 
Croft $ “ but I don’t believe she would give me any 
chance to speak with her. Since my accident, she 
has persistently and pointedly refused to grant me 
even the shortest interview.” 

“ That ought to prove to you,” said Keswick, “ that 
she does not desire your attentions. You should con- 
sider it as a positive answer.” 

“Not at all,” said Lawrence, “not at all. And I 
don’t think you would consider it a positive answer 
if you were in my place. I think she has taken some 
offence which is entirely groundless, and if you will 
consent to act for me it will enable me to set straight 
this misunderstanding.” 

“Confound it!” exclaimed Keswick. “Can’t you 
write to her, or get some one else to take your love- 
messages ? ” 

“No,” said Lawrence, “I cannot write to her, for I 
am not sure that under the circumstances she would 
answer my letter. And I have already asked Mrs. 
Null, the only other person I could ask, to speak for 
me, but she has declined.” 

262 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“By the Lord Harry!” exclaimed Junius, “you 
are the rarest wooer I ever heard of.” 

“I assure you,” said Lawrence, his face flushing 
somewhat, “that it is not my desire to carry on my 
wooing in this fashion. My whole soul is opposed to 
it, but circumstances will have it so. And as I don’t 
intend, if I can help it, to have my life determined by 
circumstances, I must go ahead in despite of them, 
although I admit that it makes the road very rough.” 

“ I should think it would,” said Junius. And then 
there was a pause in the conversation. 

“Well, Mr. Keswick,” said Lawrence, presently, 
“ will you do this thing for me!” 

“ Am I to understand,” said Junius, “ that if I don’t 
do it, it won’t be done ? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence ; “you are positively my last 
chance. I have racked my brains to think of some 
other way of presenting my case to Miss March, but 
there is no other way. I might stand at my door 
and call to her as she entered the carriage j but that 
would be the height of absurdity. I might hop on 
one foot into the house $ but, even if I wished to 
present myself in that way, I don’t believe I could 
get up that long flight of steps. It would be worse 
than useless to write, for I should not know what was 
thought of my letter, or even if it had been read. 
Mrs. Keswick cannot carry my message ; Mrs. Null 
will not ; and I have only you to call upon. I know 
it is a great deal to ask, but it means so much to me 
—to both of us, in fact— that I ask it.” 

“You were kind enough to say, a little while ago,” 
said Junius, “that you considered me an honorable 
man. I try to be such, and therefore will frankly 
263 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


state to you that I can think of but three motives, 
satisfactory to myself, for undertaking this business 
for you, and not one of them is a generous one. In 
the first place, I might care to do it in order to have 
this matter settled ; for you are such an extraordinary 
suitor that I don’t know in what form you may turn 
up the next time. Secondly, from what you tell me 
of Miss March’s repugnance to meet you, I don’t be- 
lieve my mission will have an issue favorable to you ; 
and the more unfavorable it is, the better I shall like 
it. My third reason for acting for you is that the 
whole affair is such an original one that it will rather 
interest me to be engaged in it. This last reason 
would not hold, however, if I had the least expecta- 
tion of being successful.” 

“You consent, then? ” said Lawrence, quickly, turn- 
ing towards the other. “You’ll go to Miss March for 
me?” 

“Yes, I think I will,” said Junius, “if you will 
accept the services of a man who is decidedly opposed 
to your interests.” 

“Of course I never expected you to favor them,” 
said Lawrence, “ nor is it necessary that you should. 
All I ask is that you carry a message to Miss March, 
and, if she needs any explanation of it, that you will 
explain in the way that I shall indicate ; that you 
shall tell me how she received my message ; and that 
you shall bring me back her answer. There is no 
need of your making any proposition to her $ that has 
already been done ; what I want is that she should 
not go away from here with a misunderstanding be- 
tween us, and that she shall give me at least the 
promise of a hearing.” 


264 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Very good,” said Junius; “now, what is it that 
you want me to say ! ” 

This was not an easy question for Lawrence to answer. 
He knew very well what he wanted to say, if he had 
a chance of saying it himself. He wanted to pour his 
whole heart out to Roberta March, and, showing her 
its present passion, to ask her to forgive those days in 
which his mind only had appeared to be engaged. 
He believed he could say things that would force from 
her the pardon of his previous shortcomings, if she 
considered them as such. She had been very gracious 
to him in time past, and he did not see why she should 
not be still more gracious now, if he could remove the 
feelings of resentment which he believed were occa- 
sioned by her womanly insight into the motives of his 
conduct towards her during those delightful summer 
days at Midbranch. 

But to get another person to say all this was a very 
different thing. He was sure, however, that if it were 
not said now, it would never be said. It would be 
death to all his hopes if Miss March went away, feeling 
towards him as she now felt; therefore he stiffened 
his purpose, which was quite used to being stiffened, 
hardened his sensibilities, and took his plunge. Gaz- 
ing steadfastly at the back of the fireplace while he 
spoke, he endeavored to make Junius Keswick under- 
stand the nature and the probable force of the objec- 
tions to his line of action as a suitor, which had grown 
up in the mind of Miss March ; and he also endeavored 
to show how completely and absolutely he had been 
changed by the vigor and ardor of his present affec- 
tion; and how he was entitled to be considered by 
Miss March as a lover who had but one thought and 
265 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


purpose, and that was to win her; and, as such, he 
asked her to give him an opportunity to renew his 
proposal to her. “Now, then,” said Lawrence, “I 
have placed the case before you, and I beg you will 
present it as nearly as possible in the form in which 
I have given it to you.” 

“Mr. Croft,” said Junius, “this case of yours is 
worse than I thought it was. What woman of spirit 
would accept a man who admitted that during the 
whole of his acquaintance with her he had had his 
doubts in regard to suitability, etc., but who, when a 
crisis arrived, and another man turned up, had deter- 
mined to overlook all his objections and take her, 
anyway.” 

“That is a very cold-blooded way of putting it,” 
said Lawrence, “and I don’t believe at all that she 
will look upon it in that light. If you will set the 
matter before her as I have put it to you, I believe 
she will see it as I wish her to see it.” 

“Very well,” said Junius, rising and taking out 
his watch ; “ I will make your statement as accurately 
as I can, and without any interpretations of my own. 
And now I must bid you good night. I had no idea 
it was after twelve o’clock.” 

“And you will observe her moods?” asked Law- 
rence. 

“Yes,” said Junius, as he opened the door, “I will 
carefully observe her moods.” 

When Junius had gone, Lawrence turned his face 
again towards the fireplace, where the last smouldering- 
stick had just broken apart in the middle, and the 
two ends had wearily fallen over the andirons as if 
they wished it understood that they could do no more 
266 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


burning that night. Taking this as a hint, Lawrence 
prepared to retire. “Old Isham must have gone to 
bed long ago,” he said ; “ but as I have asked for so 
much assistance to-day, I think it is well that I should 
try to do some things for myself.” 

It was, indeed, very late ; but behind the partially 
closed shutters of a lower room of the house sat old 
Mrs. Keswick, gazing at the light that was streaming 
from the window of the office, and wondering what 
those two men were saying to each other that was 
keeping them sitting up together until after midnight. 

Annie Peyton, too, had not gone to bed, and looking 
through her chamber window, at the office, she hoped 
that Cousin Junius would come away before he lost 
his temper. Of course she thought he must have been 
very angry when he came home and found Mr. Croft 
here at the only time that Roberta March had ever 
visited the house, and it was quite natural that he 
should go to his rival and tell him what he thought 
about it. But he had been there a long, long time, 
and she did hope they would not get very angry with 
each other, and that nothing would happen. One 
thought comforted her very much : Mr. Croft was 
disabled, and Junius would scorn to take advantage 
of a man in that condition. 

At an upper window, at the other end of the house, 
sat Roberta March, ready for bed, but with no inten- 
tion of going there until Junius Keswick had come 
out of the office. Knowing the two men as she did, 
she had no fear that any harm would come to either 
of them during this long conference, whatever its sub- 
ject might be. That she herself was that subject she 
had not the slightest doubt, and although it was of no 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


earthly use for her to sit there and gaze upon that 
light streaming into the darkness of the yard, but 
revealing to her no more of what was going on inside 
the room than if it had been the light of a distant 
star, still she sat and speculated. At last the office 
door opened, and Junius came out, turning to speak 
to the occupant of the room as he did so. The brief 
vision of him which the watchers caught, as he stood 
for a moment in the lighted doorway before stepping 
out into the darkness, showed that his demeanor was 
as quiet and composed as usual $ and one of the three 
women went to bed very much relieved. 


268 


CHAPTER XXII 

From breakfast-time, the next morning, until ten 
o’clock in the forenoon, at which hour the Midbranch 
carriage arrived, Junius Keswick had been vainly 
endeavoring to get an opportunity to speak with 
Miss March. That lady had remained in her own 
room nearly all the morning, where his cousin had 
been with her $ and his aunt, who had her own pecu- 
liar ways of speeding the parting guest, had retired to 
some distant spot on the estate, either to plan out 
some farming operation for the ensuing season, or to 
prevent her pent-up passion from boiling over in her 
own house. 

Thus Junius had the lower floor to himself, and he 
strode about in much disquietude, debating whether 
he ought to send a message to Roberta, or whether he 
should wait till she had finished her packing, or what- 
ever it was, that was keeping her up -stairs. His last 
private interview with her had not been a pleasant 
one, and if he had intended to speak to her for him- 
self, he would not have felt much encouraged by her 
manner of the preceding evening 5 but he was now 
engaged on the affairs of another, and he believed 
that a failure to attend to them would be regarded as 
a breach of faith. 


269 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


When Mr. Brandon’s carriage drove into the yard 
he began to despair ; but now Roberta came running 
down-stairs to speak to Sam, the driver, and ask him 
how long it would be necessary to rest his horses. 
Sam thought an hour would be long enough, as they 
would have a good rest when they got home ; and this 
matter having been settled, Junius came forward, and 
requested Roberta to step in the parlor, as he had 
something to say to her. Without reply, she followed 
him into the room, and he closed the door. They sat 
down, one on one side of the round centre-table, and 
one on the other, and Junius began his statement. 

He was by profession a lawyer, and he had given a 
great deal of attention to the art of putting things 
plainly, and with a view to a just effect. He had 
carefully prepared in his mind what he should say to 
Roberta. He wished to present this man’s message 
without the slightest exhibition of desire for its suc- 
cess, and yet without any tendency to that cold- 
blooded way of stating it to which Croft had objected. 
He had, indeed, picked up his adversary’s sword, and 
while he did not wish, in handing it to him, to prick 
him with it, or do him some such underhand injury, 
he did not think it at all necessary to sharpen the 
weapon before giving it back. 

What Junius had to say occupied a good deal of 
time. He expressed himself carefully and deliber- 
ately ; and as nearly as a skilfully stuffed and pre- 
pared animal in a museum resembles its wild original 
of the forest, so did his remarks resemble those that 
Lawrence would have made had he been there. 

Roberta listened to him in silence until he had 
finished, and then she rose to her feet, and her man- 
270 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


ner was such that Junius rose also. “Junius Kes- 
wick/’ she said, “you have deliberately come to me 
and offered me the hand of another man in marriage.” 

“Not that,” said Junius. “I merely came to ex- 
plain—” 

“Do not split hairs,” she interrupted. “You did 
exactly that. You came to me because he could not 
come himself, and offered him to me. Now go to him 
from me, and tell him that I accept him.” And with 
that she swept out of the room, and came down-stairs 
no more until, bonneted, and accompanied by Miss 
Annie, she hurried to the front door, and entered the 
carriage which was there waiting for her, with Peggy 
by the driver. With some quick good-bys and 
kisses to Annie, but never a word to Junius or any- 
body else, she drove away. 

If Junius Keswick had been nervous and anxious 
that morning, as he strode about the house waiting 
for an opportunity to speak to Miss March, it may 
well be supposed that Lawrence Croft, shut up in his 
little room at the end of the yard, would be more so. 
He had sat at his window, waiting and waiting. He 
had occasionally seen Mr. Keswick come out on the 
porch and with long strides pace backward and for- 
ward, and he knew by that sign that he had yet no 
message to bring him. He had seen the Midbranch 
carriage drive into the yard ; he had seen Miss March 
come out on the porch and speak to the driver, and 
then go in again; he had seen the carriage driven 
under a large tree, where the horses were taken out 
and led away to be refreshed ; in an hour or more, he 
saw them brought back and harnessed to the vehicle, 
which was turned and driven up again to the door, 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


when some baggage was brought down and strapped 
on a little platform behind. Shortly afterwards 
Peggy came round the end of the house, with a hat 
on, and a little bundle under her arm, and approached 
the carriage, making, however, a wide turn towards 
the office, at which, and a mile or two beyond, her 
far-off gaze was steadily directed. 

Lawrence threw up the sash and called to her, and 
his guardian imp approached the window. “Are 
you Miss March’s maid? I think I have seen you at 
Midbranch.” 

“ Yaas, sah ; you’s done seen me offen,” said Peggy. 

“Does Miss March intend to start immediately?” 
he asked. 

“Yaas, sah,” said the good Peggy ; “she’ll be out in 
a minute, soon as she done kissin’ Mahs’ Junius good- 
by in de parlor.” And then, noticing a look of 
astonishment on the gentleman’s face, she added : 
“Dey’s gwine to be mar’ed Chris’mus.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Lawrence. 

“ Good-by, Mister Oof,” said Peggy ; “ I’se got to 
hurry up.” 

Lawrence made no answer, but mechanically tossed 
her a coin, which picking up, she gave him a fare- 
well grin, and hastened to take her seat by the 
driver. 

Very soon afterwards Lawrence saw Roberta come 
out, accompanied only by Mrs. Null, and hurry down 
the steps. Forgetting his injured ankle, he sprang to 
his feet, and stepping quickly to the door, opened it, 
and stood on the threshold. But Miss March did not 
even look his way. He gazed at her with wide-open 
eyes as she hastily kissed Mrs. Null and sprang into 
272 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

the carriage, which was immediately driven off. As 
Mrs. Null turned to go into the house, she looked 
towards the office and nodded to him. He believed 
that she would have come to him if he had called her, 
but he did not call. His mind was in such a condi- 
tion that he would not have been capable of framing 
a question, had she come. He felt that he could speak 
to no one until he had seen Keswick. Closing the 
door, he went back to his chair ; and as he did so his 
ankle pained him sadly, but of this he scarcely 
thought. 

He did not have to wait long for Junius Keswick, 
for in about ten minutes that individual entered. 
Lawrence turned as his visitor opened the door, and 
he saw a countenance which had undergone a very 
noticeable change. It was not dark or lowering; it 
was not pale; but it was gray and hard, and the 
eyes looked larger than Lawrence had remembered 
them. 

Without preface or greeting, Junius approached 
him and said : “ I have taken your message to Miss 
March, and have brought you one in return. You 
are accepted.’’ 

Lawrence pushed back his chair, and stared blankly 
at the other. “What do you mean?” he presently 
asked. 

“ I mean what I say,” said Keswick. “ Miss March 
has accepted you.” 

A crowd of emotions rushed through the brain of 
Lawrence Croft ; joy was among them, but it was a 
joy that was jostled and shaken and pushed this way 
and that. “I do not understand,” he said. “I did 
not expect such a decisive message. I supposed she 
273 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


might send me some encouragement, some — why 
didn’t she see me before she left ? ” 

“ 1 am not here to explain her actions, if I could,” 
said Junius, who had not sat down. “ She said : 1 Tell 
him I accept him.’ That is all. Good morning.” 

“ But stop ! ” cried Lawrence, on his feet again. 
“You must tell me more than that. Did you say 
to her only what I said to you? How did it affect 
her?” 

“Oh,” said Junius, turning suddenly at the door, 
“ I forgot that you asked me to observe her mood. 
Well, she was very angry.” 

“With me?” cried Lawrence. 

“ With me,” said Junius. And closing the door be- 
hind him, he strode away. 

The accepted lover sat down. He had never spoken 
more truly than when he said he did not understand 
it. “ Is she really mine ? ” he exclaimed. And with 
his eyes fixed on the blank wall over the mantel- 
piece, he repeated over and over again : “ Is she 
mine? Is she really mine? ” He had well- developed 
mental powers, but the work of setting this matter 
straight and plain was too difficult for him. 

If she had sent him some such message as this, “ I 
am very angry with you, but some day you can come 
and explain yourself to me,” his heart would have 
leaped for joy. He would have believed that his 
peace had been made, and that he had only to go to 
her to call her his own. How his heart desired to 
leap with joy, but it did not seem to know how to do 
it. The situation was such an anomalous one. After 
such a message as this, why had she not let him see 
her? Why had she been angry with Keswick? Was 
274 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that pique? And then a dark thought crossed his 
mind. Had he been accepted to punish the other? 
No, he could not believe that; no woman such as 
Roberta March would give herself away from such 
a motive. Had Keswick been joking with him ? No, 
he could not believe that ; no man could joke with 
such a face. 

Even the fact that Mrs. Keswick had not bidden Miss 
March farewell troubled the mind of Lawrence. It 
was true that she might not yet know that the match 
which she had so much encouraged had been finally 
made, but something must be very wrong, or she 
would not have been absent at the moment of her 
guest’s departure. And what did that beastly little 
negro mean by telling him that Keswick and Miss 
March were to be married at Christmas, and that the 
two were kissing each other good-by in the parlor? 
Why, the man had not even come out to put her in 
the carriage, and the omission of this courtesy was 
very remarkable. These questions were entirely too 
difficult for him to resolve by himself. It was abso- 
lutely necessary that more should be told to him and 
explained to him. Seeing the negro boy Plez crossing 
the yard, he called him and asked him to tell Mr. 
Keswick that Mr. Croft wished to see him immedi- 
ately. 

“ Mahs’ Junius,” said the boy, “ he done gone to de 
railroad to take de kyars. He done took he knapsack 
on he back, an’ walk ’cross de fiel’s.” 

When, about an hour or two afterwards, Uncle 
Isham brought Mr. Croft his dinner, the old negro 
appeared to have lost that air of attentive geniality 
which he usually put on while waiting on the gentle- 
275 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


man. Lawrence, however, took no notice of this, but 
before the man reached the table on which he was to 
place the tray he carried, he asked : “ Is it true that 
Mr. Keswick has gone away by train? ” 

“ Yaas, sah,” answered Isham. 

“And where is Mrs. Keswick?” asked Lawrence. 
“ Isn’t she in the house? ” 

“ Ko, sah ; done gwine vis’ tin’, I ’spec’.” 

“ When will she return? ” 

“Dunno,” said Isham. “She nebber comes to me 
an’ tells me whar she gwine an’ when she cornin’ 
back.” 

And then, after satisfying himself that nothing more 
was needed of him for the present, Isham left the 
room ; and when he reached the kitchen, he addressed 
himself to its plump mistress. “Letty,” said he, 
“when dat ar Mister Crof has got fru wid his 
dinner, you go an’ fotch back de plates an’ dishes. 
He axes too many questions to suit me dis day.” 

“You is po’ly to-day, Uncle Isham,” said Letty. 

“Yaas,” said the old man; “I’se right much on 
de careen.” 

Uncle Isham, perhaps, was not more loyal to the 
widow Keswick than many old servants were and are 
to their former mistresses, but his loyalty was peculiar 
in that it related principally to his regard for her 
character. This regard he wished to be very high, 
and it always troubled and unsettled his mind when 
the old lady herself or anybody else interfered with 
his efforts to keep it high. For years he had been 
hoping that the time would come when she would 
cease to “ r’ar and chawge,” but she had continued, at 
intervals, to indulge in that most unsuitable exercise ; 

276 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


and now that it appeared that she had reared and 
charged again, her old servant was much depressed. 
She had gone away from the house, and, for all he 
knew, she might stay away for days or weeks, as she 
had done before ; and Uncle Isham was never so much 
11 on the careen ” as when he found himself forced to 
believe that his old mistress was still a woman who 
could do a thing like that. 

Letty had no objections to answering questions, but, 
much to her disappointment, Lawrence asked her 
none. He had had enough of catechising negroes. 
But he requested her to ask Mrs. Null if she would be 
kind enough to step out, for a few minutes, and speak 
to him. When, very shortly thereafter, that lady 
appeared, Lawrence was seated at his open door, ready 
to receive her. 

“ How are you ? ” she said. “ And how is your ankle 
to-day? You have had nobody to attend to it.” 

“It has hurt me a good deal,” he answered. “I 
think I must have given it a wrench this morning $ 
but I put on it some of the lotion Mrs. Keswick left 
with me, and it feels better.” 

“ It is too bad,” said Mrs. Null, “ that you have to 
attend to it yourself.” 

“ Not at all,” said Lawrence. “ Now that I know 
how, I can do it perfectly well ; and I don’t care a 
snap about my ankle, except that it interferes with 
more important affairs. Why do you suppose Miss 
March went away without speaking to me, or taking 
leave of me in any way ? ” 

“I thought that would trouble you,” said she, 
“and, to speak honestly, I don’t think it was right. 
But Roberta was in a very agitated condition when 
277 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


she left here, and I don’t believe she ever thought of 
taking leave of you, or any one, except me. She and 
I are very good friends, but she doesn’t confide much in 
me. But one thing I am pretty sure of, and that is 
that she is dreadfully angry with my cousin Junius, 
and I am very sorry for that.” 

“ How did he anger her? ” asked Lawrence, wishing 
to find out how much this young woman knew. 

“ 1 haven’t the least idea,” said Miss Annie. “ All 
I know is, she had quite a long talk with him in the 
parlor, and after that she came flying up-stairs, just as 
indignant as she could be. She didn’t say much, but 
I could see how her soul raged within her.” And 
now the young lady stopped speaking, and looked 
straight into Lawrence’s face. “ It isn’t possible,” she 
said, “ that you have been sending my cousin to pro- 
pose to her for you ? ” 

This was not a pleasant question to answer, and, 
besides, Lawrence had made up his mind that the 
period had passed for making confidants of other 
persons in regard to his love-affairs. “ Do you sup- 
pose I would do that? ” he said. 

“No, I don’t,” Miss Annie answered. “Cousin 
Junius would never have undertaken such a thing, 
and I don’t believe you would be cruel enough to 
ask him.” 

“Thank you for your good opinion,” said Law- 
rence. “ And now can you tell me when Mr. Keswick 
is expected to return ? ” 

“He has gone back to Washington, and he told me 
he should stay there some time.” 

“And why has not Mrs. Keswick been out to see 
me ? ” asked Lawrence. 


278 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“You are dreadfully inquisitive / 7 said Miss Annie ; 
“but, to tell you the simple truth, Mr. Croft, I don’t 
believe Aunt Keswick takes any further interest in 
you, now that Roberta has gone. She had set her 
heart on making a match between you two, and doing 
it here without delay ; and I think that everything 
going wrong about this has put her into the state of 
mind she is in now.” 

“Has she really gone away?” asked Lawrence. 

“Oh, that doesn’t amount to anything,” said Miss 
Annie. “She went over the fields to Howlett’s, to 
see the postmistress, who is an old friend, to whom 
she often goes for comfort when things are not right 
at home. But I am going after her this afternoon in 
the spring-wagon. I’ll take Plez along with me to 
open the gates. I am sure I shall bring her back.” 

“I must admit, Mrs. Hull,” said Lawrence, “that I 
am very inquisitive, but you can easily understand 
how much I am troubled and perplexed.” 

“I expect Miss March’s going away troubled you 
more than anything else,” said she. 

“ That is true,” he answered ; “ but then, there are 
other things which give me a great deal of anxiety. 
I came here to be, for a day or two, the guest of a 
lady on whom I have no manner of claim for pro- 
longed hospitality. And now here I am, compelled 
to stay in this room and depend on her kindness or 
forbearance for everything I have. I would go away 
immediately, but I know it would injure me to 
travel. The few steps I took yesterday have prob- 
ably set me back for several days.” 

“Oh, it would never do for you to travel,” said 
she, “with such a sprained ankle as you have. It 
279 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


would certainly injure you very much to be driven 
all the way to the Green Sulphur Springs. I am told 
the road is very rough between here and there ; but 
perhaps you didn’t notice it, having come over on 
horseback.” 

“Yes, I did notice it, and I could not stand that 
drive. And even if I could be got to the train to 
go North, I should have to walk a good deal at the 
stations.” 

“ You simply must not think of it,” said Miss Annie. 
“ And now let me give you a piece of advice. I am 
a practical person, as you may know, and I like to do 
things in a practical way. The very best thing that 
you can do is to arrange with Aunt Keswick to stay 
here as a boarder until your ankle is well. She has 
taken boarders, and in this case I don’t think she 
would refuse. As I told you before, you must not 
expect her to take the same interest in you that she 
did when you first came; but she is really a kind 
woman, though she has such dreadfully funny ways, 
and she wouldn’t have neglected you to-day if it 
hadn’t been that her mind is entirely wrapped up in 
other things. If you like, I’ll propose such an ar- 
rangement to her this afternoon.” 

“You are very kind indeed,” said Lawrence ; “but 
is there not danger of offending her by such a propo- 
sition?” 

“Yes, I think there is,” answered Miss Annie, 
“ and I have no doubt she will fly out into a passion 
when she hears that the gentleman whom she invited 
here as a guest proposes to stay as a boarder ; but I 
think I can pacify her, and make her look at the 
matter in the proper way.” 

280 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ But why mention it at all, and put yourself to all 
that trouble about it?” said Lawrence. 

“Why, of course, because I think you will be so 
much better satisfied, and content to keep quiet and 
get well, if you feel that you have a right to stay 
here. If Aunt Keswick wasn’t so very different from 
other people, I wouldn’t have mentioned this matter, 
for, really, there is no necessity for it; but I know 
very well that if you were to drop out of her mind 
for two or three days, and shouldn’t see anything of 
her, that you would become dreadfully nervous about 
staying here.” 

“You are certainly very practical, Mrs. Null, and 
very sensible, and very, very kind ; and nothing could 
suit me better, under the circumstances, than the plan 
you propose. But I am extremely anxious not to 
give offence to your aunt. She has treated me with 
the utmost kindness and hospitality.” 

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself about that,” said Miss 
Annie, with a little laugh. “I am getting to know 
her so well that I think I can manage an affair like 
this very easily. And now I must be off, or it will 
be too late for me to go to Howlett’s this afternoon, 
and I am a very slow driver. Are you sure there is 
nothing you want? I shall go directly past the store, 
and can stop as well as not.” 

“Thank you very much,” said Lawrence, “but I 
do not believe that Howlett’s possesses an article that 
I need. One thing I will ask you to do for me before 
you go. I want to write a letter, and I find that I 
am out of paper ; therefore I shall be very much 
obliged to you if you will let me have some, and 
some envelopes.” 


281 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Why, certainly / 7 said Miss Annie, and she went 
into the house. 

She looked over the stock of paper which her annt 
kept in a desk in the dining-room, but she did not 
like it. “I don 7 t believe he will want to write on 
such ordinary paper as this , 77 she said to herself. 
Whereupon she went up -stairs and got some of her 
own paper and envelopes, which were much finer in 
material and more correct in style. “ I don 7 t like it 
a bit , 77 she thought, “ to give this to him to write that 
letter on ; but I suppose it 7 s bound to be written, any- 
way, so he might as well have the satisfaction of good 
paper . 77 

“You must excuse these little sheets , 77 she said, 
when she took it to him, “but you couldn 7 t expect 
anything else in an Amazonian household like ours. 
Cousin Junius has manly stationery, of course, but I 
suppose it is all locked up in that secretary in your 
room . 77 

“ Oh, this will do very well indeed , 77 said Lawrence ; 
“and I wish I could come out and help you into 
your vehicle , 77 regarding the spring-wagon, which now 
stood at the door, with Plez at the head of the solemn 
sorrel. 

“ Thank you , 77 said Miss Annie ; “ that is not at all 
necessary . 77 And she tripped over to the spring- 
wagon, and mounting into its altitudes without the 
least trouble in the world, she took up the reins. 
With these firmly grasped in her little hands, which 
were stretched very far out and held very wide 
apart, she gave the horse a great jerk and told him 
to “get up ! 77 As she moved off, Lawrence from his 
open door called out, “ Bon voyage 77 ; and in a full, 
282 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


clear voice she thanked him, but did not dare to look 
around, so intent was she upon her charioteering. 

Slowly turning the horse towards the yard gate, 
which Plez stood holding open, her whole soul was 
absorbed in the act of guiding the equipage through 
the gateway. Quickly glancing from side to side, 
and then at the horse’s back, which ought to occupy 
a medium position between the two gate-posts, she 
safely steered the front wheels through the dangerous 
pass, although a grin of delight covered the face of 
Plez as he noticed that the hub of one of the hind 
wheels almost grazed a post. Then the observant boy 
ran on to open the other gate, and with many jerks 
and clucks, Miss Annie induced the sorrel to break 
into a gentle trot. 

As Lawrence looked after her, a little pang made 
itself noticeable in his conscience. This girl was cer- 
tainly very kind to him, and most remarkably con- 
siderate of him in the plan she had proposed. And 
yet, he felt that he had prevaricated to her, and, in 
fact, deceived her, in the answer he had made when 
she asked him if he had sent her cousin to speak for 
him to Miss March. Would she have such friendly 
feelings towards him, and be so willing to oblige him, 
if she knew that he had in effect done the thing which 
she considered so wrong and so cruel? But it could 
not be helped. The time had passed for confidences. 
He must now work out this affair for himself, without 
regard to persons who really had nothing whatever 
to do with it. 

Closing his door, he hopped back to his table, and, 
seating himself at it, he opened his travelling-inkstand 
and prepared to write to Miss March. It was abso- 
283 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


lutely necessary that he should write this letter imme- 
diately, for, after the message he had received from the 
lady of his love, no time should be lost in putting him- 
self in communication with her. But before beginning 
to write he must decide upon the spirit of his letter. 

Under the very peculiar circumstances of his ac- 
ceptance, he did not feel that he ought to indulge in 
those rapturous expressions of ecstasy in which he 
most certainly would have indulged if the lady had 
personally delivered her decision to him. He did 
not doubt her, for what woman would play a joke like 
that on a man— upon two men, in fact? Even if 
there were no other reason, she would not dare to do 
it. Nor did he doubt Keswick. It would have been 
impossible for him to come with such a message if it 
had not been delivered to him. And yet, Lawrence 
could not bring himself to be rapturous. If he had 
been accepted in cold blood, and a hand, and not a 
heart, had been given to him, he would gladly take 
that hand and trust to himself to so warm the heart 
that it, also, would soon be his. But he did not know 
what Roberta March had given him. 

On the other hand, he knew very well if, in his first 
letter as an accepted lover, he should exhibit any of 
that caution and prudence which, in the course of his 
courtship, had proved to be shoals on which he had 
very nearly run aground, that Roberta’s resentment, 
which had shown itself very marked in this regard, 
would probably be roused to such an extent that the 
affair would be brought to a very speedy and abrupt 
termination. If she had been obliged to forgive him 
once for this line of conduct, he could not expect her 
to do it again. To write a letter which should err in 
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neither of these respects was a very difficult thing to 
do, and required so much preparatory thought that 
when, towards the close of the afternoon, Miss Annie 
drove in at the yard gate, with Mrs. Keswick on the 
seat beside her, not a line had been written. 

Mrs. Keswick descended from the spring- wagon and 
went into the house ; but Miss Annie remained at the 
bottom of the steps, for the apparent purpose of speak- 
ing to Plez— perhaps to give him some instructions in 
regard to the leading of a horse to its stable, or to 
instil into his mind some moral principle or other; 
but the moment the vehicle moved away, she ran 
over to the office and tapped at the window, which 
was quickly opened by Lawrence. 

“I have spoken to her about it,” she said; “and 
although she blazed up at first, so that I thought I 
should be burned alive, I made her understand just 
how matters really are, and she has agreed to let you 
stay here as a boarder.” 

“You are extremely good,” said Lawrence, “and 
must be a most admirable manager. This arrange- 
ment makes me feel much better satisfied than I 
could have been otherwise.” Then, leaning a little 
farther out of the window, he asked : “ But what am 
I to do for company while I am shut up here f ” 

“Oh, you will have Uncle Isham, and Aunt Kes- 
wick, and sometimes me. But I hope that you will 
soon be able to come into the house and take your 
meals and spend your evenings with us.” 

“You have nothing but good wishes for me,” he 
said, “and I believe, if you could manage it, you 
would have me cured by magic, and sent off, well and 
whole, to-morrow.” 


285 


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“Of course,” said Miss Annie, very promptly. 
“ Good night.” 

Just before supper, Mrs. Keswick came in to see 
Lawrence. She was very grave, almost severe, and 
her conversation was confined to inquiries as to the 
state of his ankle, and his general comfort. But Law- 
rence took no offence at her manner, and was very 
gracious, saying some exceedingly neat things about 
the way he had been treated ; and after a little her 
manner slightly mollified, and she remarked : “ And so 
you let Miss March go away without settling anything.” 

Kow, Lawrence considered this a very incorrect 
statement, but he had no wish to set the old lady 
right. He knew it would joy her heart, and make 
her more his friend than ever, if he should tell her 
that Miss March had accepted him, but this would be 
a very dangerous piece of information to put in her 
hands. He did not know what use she would make 
of it, or what damage she might unwittingly do to his 
prospects. And so he merely answered : “ I had no 
idea she would leave so soon.” 

“Well,” said the old lady, “I suppose, after all, 
that you needn’t give it up yet. I understand that 
she is not going to New York before the end of the 
month, and you may be well enough before that to 
ride over to Midbranch.” 

“ I hope so, most assuredly,” said he. 

Lawrence devoted that evening to his letter. It 
was a long one, and was written with a most earnest 
desire to embrace all the merits of each of the two 
kinds of letters which have before been alluded to, 
and to avoid all their faults. When it was finished, 
he read it, tore it up, and threw it in the fire. 

286 


CHAPTER XXIII 

The next day opened bright and clear, and before ten 
o’clock the thermometer had risen to seventy degrees. 
Instead of sitting in front of the fireplace, Lawrence 
had his chair and table brought close to his open 
doorway, where he could look out on the same beau- 
tiful scene which had greeted his eyes a few days 
before. u But what is the good,” he thought, “ of this 
green grass, this sunny air, that blue sky, those white 
clouds, and the distant tinted foliage, without that 
figure which a few days ago stood in the foreground 
of the picture ? ” But as the woman to whom, in his 
soul’s sight, the whole world was but a background, 
was not there, he turned his eyes from the warm au- 
tumnal scene, and prepared again to write to her. 
He had scarcely taken up his pen, however, when he 
was interrupted by the arrival of Miss Annie, who 
came to bring him a book she had just finished read- 
ing, a late English novel which she thought might be 
more interesting than those she had sent him. The 
book was one which Lawrence had not seen and 
wanted to see ; but in talking about it to the young 
lady, he discovered that she had not read all of it. 

“ Don’t let me deprive you of the book,” said Law- 
287 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

rence. “If you have begun it, you ought to go on 
with it.” 

“ Oh, don’t trouble your mind about that,” she said, 
with a laugh. “I have finished it, but I have not 
read a word of the beginning. I only looked at the 
end of it to see how the story turned out. I always 
do that before I read a novel.” 

This remark much amused Lawrence. “Do you 
know,” said he, “ that I would rather not read novels 
at all than to read them in that way. I must begin 
at the beginning, and go regularly through, as the 
author wishes his readers to do.” 

“ And perhaps, when you get to the end,” said Miss 
Annie, “ you’ll find that the wrong man got her, and 
then you’ll wish you had not read the story.” 

“As you appear to be satisfied with this novel,” 
said Lawrence, “ I wish you would read it to me, and 
then I would feel that I was not taking an uncourteous 
precedence of you.” 

“ I’ll read it to you,” said she, “ or, at least, as much 
as you want me to, for I feel quite sure that after you 
get interested in it you will want to take it yourself, 
and read straight on till it is finished, instead of wait- 
ing for some one to come and give you a chapter or two 
at a time. That would be the way with me, I know.” 

“ I shall be delighted to have you read to me,” said 
Lawrence. “ When can you begin ! ” 

“ Now,” she said, “ if you choose. But perhaps you 
wish to write.” 

“ Not at this moment,” said Lawrence, turning from 
the table. “Unfortunately, I have plenty of leisure. 
Where will you sit?” And he reached out his hand 
for a chair. 


288 


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u Oh, I don’t want a chair,” said Annie, taking her 
seat on the broad door-step. “ This is exactly what I 
like. I am devoted to sitting on steps. Don’t you 
think there is something dreadfully stiff about always 
being perched up in a chair? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “on some occasions.” 

And forthwith she began upon the first chapter; 
and having read five lines of this, she went back and 
read the title-page, suddenly remembering that Mr. 
Croft liked to begin a book at the very beginning. 
Miss Annie had been accustomed to read to her father, 
and she read aloud very well, and liked it. As she 
sat there, shaded by a great locust-tree, which had 
dropped so many yellow leaves upon the grass that, 
now and then, it could not help letting a little fleck 
of sunshine come down upon her, sometimes gilding 
for a moment her light-brown hair, sometimes touch- 
ing the end of a crimson ribbon she wore, and again 
resting for a brief space on the toe of a very small 
boot just visible at the edge of her dress, Lawrence 
looked at her, and said to himself : “ Is it possible 
that this is the rather pale young girl in black who 
gave me change from behind the desk of Mr. Candy’s 
Information Shop? I don’t believe it. That young 
person sprang up temporarily, and is defunct. This 
is some one else.” 

She read three chapters before she considered it 
time to go into the house to see if it were necessary for 
her to do anything about dinner. When she left him, 
Lawrence turned again to his writing. 

That afternoon he sent Mrs. Null a little note on 
the back of a card, asking her if she could let him 
have a few more sheets of paper. Lawrence found 
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this request necessary, as he had used up that day all 
the paper she had sent him, and the small torn pieces 
of it now littered the fireplace. 

“He must be writing a diary letter,’ 7 said Miss 
Annie to herself, when she received this message, 
“such as we girls used to write when we were at 
school.” And bringing down a little the corners of 
her mouth, she took from her stationery-box what 
she thought would be quite paper enough to send to 
a man for such a purpose. 

But although the means were thus made abundant, 
the letter to Miss March was not then written. Law- 
rence finally determined that it was simply impossible 
for him to write to the lady until he knew more. 
What Keswick had told him had been absurdly little, 
and he had hurried away before there had been time 
to ask further questions. Instead of sending a letter 
to Miss March, he would write to Keswick, and would 
put to him a series of interrogations, the answers to 
which would make him understand better the position 
in which he stood. Then he would write to Miss March. 

The next day Miss Annie could not read to him in 
the morning, because, as she came and told him, she 
was going to Howlett’s, on an errand for her aunt. 
But there would be time to give him a chapter or two 
before dinner, when she came back. 

“Would it be any trouble,” said Lawrence, “for 
you to mail a letter for me ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Miss Annie, but not precisely in the 
same tone in which she would have told him that it 
would be no trouble to read to him two or three chap- 
ters of a novel. And yet she would pass directly by the 
residence of Miss Harriet Corvey, the post-mistress. 

290 


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As Miss Annie walked along the narrow path which 
ran by the roadside to Howlett’s, with the blue sky 
above her and the pleasant October sunshine all about 
her, and followed at a little distance by the boy Plez, 
carrying a basket, she did not seem to be taking that 
enjoyment in her walk which was her wont. Her 
brows were slightly contracted, and she looked straight 
in front of her without seeing anything in particular, 
after the manner of persons whose attention is entirely 
occupied in looking into their own minds at something 
they do not like. “ It is too much ! ” she said, almost 
aloud, her brows contracting a little more as she spoke. 
“ It was bad enough to have to furnish the paper ; but 
for me to have to carry the letter is entirely too 
much ! ” And at this she involuntarily glanced at 
the thick and double-stamped missive, which, having 
no pocket, she carried in her hand. She had not 
looked at it before, and as her eyes fell upon the 
address, she stopped so suddenly that Plez, who was 
dozing as he walked, nearly ran into her. 

“What!” she exclaimed, Junius Keswick, 5 Q 
Street, Washington, District of Columbia !’ Is it 
possible that Mr. Croft has been writing to him all 
this time?” She now walked on; and although she 
still seemed to notice not the material objects around 
her, the frown disappeared from her brow, and her 
mental vision seemed to be fixed upon something 
more pleasant than that which had occupied it 
before. As it will be remembered, she had refused 
positively to have anything to do with Lawrence’s 
suit to Miss March, and it was a relief to her to know 
that the letter she was carrying was not for that lady. 
“But why,” thought she, “should he be writing for 
291 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


two whole evenings to Junius? I expected that he 
would write to her to find out why she went off and 
left him in that way, but I did not suppose he would 
want to write to Junius. It seems to me they had 
time enough, that night they were together, to talk 
over everything they had to say.” 

And then she began to wonder what they had to 
say, and gradually the conviction grew upon her 
that Mr. Croft was a very, very honorable man. Of 
course it was wrong that he should have come here 
to try to win a lady who, if one looked at it in the 
proper light, really belonged to another. But it now 
came into her mind that Mr. Croft must, by degrees, 
have seen this for himself, and that it was the subject 
of his long conference with Junius, and also, most 
probably, of this letter. The conference certainly 
ended amicably, and, in that case, it was scarcely 
possible that Junius had given up his claim. He was 
not that kind of a man. 

If Mr. Croft had become convinced that he ought 
to retire from this contest, and had done so, and 
Roberta had been informed of it, that would explain 
everything that had happened. Roberta’s state of 
mind after she had had the talk in the parlor with 
Junius, and her hurried departure without taking 
the slightest notice of either of the gentlemen, was 
quite natural. What woman would like to know that 
she had been bargained about, and that her two lovers 
had agreed which of them should have her? It was 
quite to be expected that she would be very angry 
at first, though there was no doubt she would get over 
it, so far as Junius was concerned. 

Having thus decided, entirely to her own satisfac- 
292 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


tion, that this was the state of affairs, she thought it 
was a grand thing that there were two such young 
men in the world as her cousin and Mr. Croft, who 
could arrange such an affair in so kindly and honor- 
able a manner, without feeling that they were obliged 
to fight— that horribly stupid way in which such 
things used to be settled. 

This vision of masculine high-mindedness which 
Miss Annie had called up seemed very pleasant to 
her, and her mental satisfaction was denoted by a 
pretty little glow which came into her face, and by a 
certain increase of sprightliness in her walk. u Now, 
then/ 7 she said to herself ; and although she did not 
finish the sentence, even in her own mind, the sky 
increased the intensity of its beautiful blue ; the sun 
began to shine with a more golden radiance ; the 
little birds who had not yet gone south chirped to 
each other as merrily as if it had been early summer ; 
the yellow and purple wild flowers of autumn threw 
into their blossoms a richer coloring* and even the 
blades of grass seemed to stretch themselves upward, 
green, tender, and promising; and when the young 
lady skipped up the step of the post-office, she dropped 
the letter into Miss Harriet Corvey’s little box with 
the air of a mother-bird feeding a young one with the 
first ripe cherry of the year. 

A day or two after this, Lawrence found himself 
able, by the aid of a cane and a rude crutch, which 
Uncle Isham had made for him and the top of which 
Mrs. Keswick had carefully padded, to make his way 
from the office to the house ; and after that he took 
his meals and passed the greater part of his time in 
the larger edifice. Sometimes he ransacked the old 
293 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


library ; sometimes Miss Annie read to him, and 
sometimes he read to her. In the evening there 
were games of cards, in which the old lady would 
occasionally take a hand, although more frequently 
Miss Annie and Mr. Croft were obliged to content 
themselves with some game at which two could play. 
But the pleasantest hours, perhaps, were those which 
were spent in talking ; for Lawrence had travelled a 
good deal, and had seen so many of the things in 
foreign lands which Miss Annie had always wished 
that she could see. 

Lawrence was waiting until he should hear from 
Mr. Keswick, so that, with some confidence in his 
position, he could write to Miss March. His trunk 
had been sent over from the Green Sulphur Springs, 
and he was much better satisfied to wait here than at 
that deserted watering-place. It was, indeed, a very 
agreeable spot in which to wait, and quite near 
enough to Midbranch for him to carry on his desired 
operations, when the time should arrive. He was a 
little annoyed that Keswick’s answer should be so 
long in coming, but he resolved not to worry himself 
about it. The answer was probably a difficult letter 
to write, and one which Keswick would not be likely 
to dash off in a hurry. He remembered, too, that the 
mail was sent and received only twice a week at How- 
lett’s. 

Old Mrs. Keswick was kind to him, but grave and 
rather silent. Once she passed the open door of the 
parlor, by the window of which sat Miss Annie and 
Lawrence, deeply engaged, their heads together, in 
studying out something on a map ; and as she went 
up-stairs she grimly grinned and said to herself : “If 
294 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that Null could look in and see them now, I reckon 
our young man would wish he had the use of all his 
arms and legs.” 

But if Mr. Null should disapprove of his wife and 
that gentleman from New York spending so much of 
their time together, old Mrs. Keswick had not the 
least objection in the world. She was well satisfied 
that Mr. Croft should find it interesting enough to 
stay here until the time came when he should be able 
to go to Midbranch. When that period arrived she 
would not be slow to urge him to his duty, in spite of 
any obstacles Mr. Brandon might put in his way. So, 
for the present, she possessed her soul in as much 
peace as the soul of a headstrong and very wilful old 
lady is capable of being possessed. 


i 


295 


CHAPTER XXIV 

The letter which Lawrence Croft had written to 
Junius Keswick was not answered for more than a 
week $ and when the answer arrived, it did not come 
through the Howlett’s post-office, hut was brought 
from a mail-station on the railway by a special mes- 
senger. In this epistle Mr. Keswick stated that he 
would have written much sooner but for the fact that 
he had been away from Washington, and having just 
returned, had found Mr. Croft’s letter waiting for him. 
The answer was written in a tone which Lawrence 
did not at all expect. It breathed the spirit of a man 
who was determined and almost defiant. It told Mr. 
Croft that the writer did not now believe that Miss 
March’s acceptance of the said Mr. Croft should be 
considered of any value whatever. It was the result 
of a very peculiar condition of things, in which he 
regretted having taken a part, and it was given in a 
moment of pique and indignation, which gave Miss 
March a right to reconsider her hasty decision, if she 
chose to do so. It would not be fair for either of them 
to accept, as conclusive, words said under the extraor- 
dinary circumstances which surrounded Miss March 
when she said those words. 

u You asked me to do you a favor,” wrote Junius 
296 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Keswick, “and, very much against my inclination, 
and against what is now my judgment, I did it. I 
now ask you to do me a favor, and I do not think you 
should refuse it. I ask you not to communicate with 
Miss March until I have seen her, and have obtained 
from her an explanation of the acceptance in ques- 
tion. I have a right to this explanation, and I feel 
confident that it will be given to me. You ask me 
what I truly believe Miss March meant by her mes- 
sage to you. I answer that I do not know, but I in- 
tend to find out what she meant, and as soon as I do 
so, I will write to you. I think, therefore, considering 
what you have asked me to do, and what you have 
written to me about what I have done, that you can- 
not refuse to abstain from any further action in the 
matter until I am enabled to answer you. I cannot 
leave Washington immediately, but I shall go to Mid- 
branch in a very few days.’ 7 

This letter was very far from being a categorical 
answer to Lawrence’s questions, and it disappointed 
and somewhat annoyed that gentleman ; but after he 
had read it for the second time, and carefully con- 
sidered it, he put it in his pocket and said to himself : 
“ This ends all discussion of this subject. Mr. Keswick 
may be right in the position he takes, or he may be 
wrong. He may go to Midbranch, he may get his 
explanation, and he may send it to me. But, with- 
out any regard to what he does, or says, or writes, I 
shall go to Miss March as soon as I am able to use my 
ankle ; and whether she be at her uncle’s house, or 
whether she has gone to Kew York or to any other 
place, I shall see her and myself obtain from her an 
explanation of this acceptance. This is due to me as 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


well as to Mr. Keswick, and if he thinks he ought to 
get it for himself, I also think I ought to get it for 
myself.” 

The good results of Lawrence’s great care in regard 
to his injured ankle soon began to show themselves. 
The joint had slowly but steadily regained its strength 
and usual healthy condition, and Lawrence now found 
that he could walk about without the assistance of his 
rude crutch. He was still prudent, however, and took 
but very short walks, and in these he leaned upon his 
trusty cane. The charming autumn days which often 
come to Virginia in late October and early November 
were now at their best. Day after day the sun shone 
brightly ; but there was in the air an invigorating cool- 
ness which made its radiance something to be sought 
for and not avoided. 

It was just after dinner, and it was Saturday after- 
noon, when Miss Annie announced that she was going 
to see old Aunt Patsy, whom she had somewhat neg- 
lected of late. 

“ May I go with you? ” said Lawrence. 

Miss Annie shook her head doubtfully. u I should 
be very glad to have your company,” she said, u but I 
am afraid it will be entirely too much of a walk for 
you. The days are so short that the sun will be low 
before we could get back, and if you should be tired, 
it would not do for you to sit down and rest, at that 
time of day.” 

“ I believe,” said Lawrence, u that my ankle is quite 
strong enough for me to walk to Aunt Patsy’s and 
back without sitting down to rest. I would be very 
glad to go with you, and I would like, too, to see that 
venerable colored woman again.” 

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“Well,” said Miss Annie, “if yon really think you 
can walk so far, it will be very nice indeed to have 
you go ; but you ought to feel very sure that it will 
not hurt you.” 

“Come along,” said Lawrence, taking up his hat 
and cane. 

After a man has been shut up as Lawrence had 
been, a pleasant ramble like this is a most delightful 
change, and he did not hesitate to manifest his pleas- 
ure. This touched the very sensitive soul of his com- 
panion, and with such a sparkle of talk did she evince 
her gratification that almost any one would have been 
able to see that she was a young lady who had an 
earnest sympathy with those who had undergone afflic- 
tions, but were now freed from them. 

Aunt Patsy was glad to see her visitors, particularly 
glad, it seemed, to see Mr. Croft. She was quite lo- 
quacious, considering the great length of her days and 
the proverbial shortness of her tongue. 

“ Why, Aunt Patsy,” said Miss Annie, “ you seem to 
have grown younger since I last saw you ! I do be- 
lieve you are getting old backward ! What are you 
going to do with that dress-body?” 

“ Pse lookin’ at dis h’yar,” said Aunt Patsy, turning 
over the well-worn body of a black woollen dress 
which lay in her lap instead of the crazy-quilt on 
which she was usually occupied, “to see if it’s done 
gib way in any ob de seams or de elbers. ’Twas a 
right smart good frock once, an’ I’se gwine to wear it 
ter-morrer.” 

“To-morrow!” exclaimed Annie. “You don’t 
mean to say you are going to church ! ” 

“ Dat’s jes wot Pse gwine to do, Miss Annie. Pse 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


gwine to chu’ch to-morrer mawnin’. Dar’s gwine to 
be a big preachin’. Brndder Enick Hines is to be 
dar, an’ dey tell me dey alius has pow’ful wakenings 
when Brudder Enick preaches. I ain’t ever heared 
Brudder Enick yit, cos he was a little boy when I 
use to go to chu’ch.” 

“ Will it be in the old church, in the woods just 
beyond Howlett’s ? ” asked Annie. 

“ Right dar,” replied Aunt Patsy, with an approv- 
ing glance towards the young lady. “ You ’members 
dem ar places fus’-rate, Miss Annie. Why you didn’t 
tole me, when you fus’ come h’yar, dat you was dat 
little Miss Annie dat I use to tote roun’ afore I gin 
up walkin’ ? ” 

“ Oh, that’s too long a story,” said Miss Annie, with 
a laugh. “You know, I hadn’t seen Aunt Keswick 
then. I couldn’t go about introducing myself to other 
people before I had seen her.” 

Aunt Patsy gave a sagacious nod of her head. “ I 
reckon you thought she’d be right much disgruntled 
when she heared you was mar’ed, an’ you wanted to 
tell her yo’se’f. But I’se pow’ful glad dat it’s all right 
now. You-all don’ know how pow’ful glad I is.” 
And she looked at Mr. Croft and Miss Annie with a 
glance as benignant as her time-set countenance was 
capable of. 

“But, Aunt Patsy,” said Annie, quite willing to 
change the conversation, although she did not know 
the import of the old woman’s last remark, “I 
thought you were not able to go out.” 

The old woman gave a little chuckle. “ Dat’s wot 
eberybody thought ; an’, to tell you de truf, Miss 
Annie, I thought so too. But ef I was strong ’nuf to 
300 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


go to de pos’-oflice,— an’ I did dat, Miss Annie, an’ not 
long ago, nuther,— I reckon I’se strong ’nuf to go to 
chu’ch ; an’ Uncle Isliam is a-comin’ wid de ox-cart to 
take me to-morrer mawnin’. Dar’ll be pow’ful wak- 
enin’s, an’ I ain’t seen de Jerus’lum Jump in a mighty 
long time.” 

“Are they going to have the Jerusalem Jump?” 
asked Miss Annie. 

“ Oh, yaas, Miss Annie,” said the old woman ; “ dey’s 
sartin shuh to hab dat when dey gits wakened.” 

“ I should so like to see the Jerusalem Jump again,” 
said Miss Annie. “ I saw it once, when I was a little 
girl. Did you ever see it?” she said, turning to Mr. 
Croft. 

“ I have not,” he answered. “ I never even heard 
of it.” 

“Suppose we go to-morrow and hear Brother 
Enoch,” she said. 

“ I should like it very much,” answered Lawrence. 

“Aunt Patsy,” said Miss Annie, “would there be 
any objection to our going to your church to-mor- 
row ? ” 

The old woman gave her head a little shake. 
“ Dunno,” she said. “ As a gin’ral rule we don’t like 
white folks at our preachin’s. Dey’s got dere chu’ches 
an’ dere ways, an’ we’s got our chu’ches an’ our ways. 
But den, it’s difrent wid you-all. An’ you-all’s not 
like white folks in gin’ral, an’ specially strawngers. 
You-all isn’t strawngers now. I don’t reckon dar’ll 
be no ’jections to your cornin’, ef you set solemn ; an’ I 
know you’ll do dat, Miss Annie, cos you did it when 
you was a little gal. An’ I reckon it’ll be de same 
wid him?” looking at Mr. Croft. 

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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Miss Annie assured her that she and her companion 
would be certain to “ set solemn,” and that they would 
not think of such a thing as going to church and 
behaving indecorously. 

“ Dere is white folks,” said Aunt Patsy, “ wot comes 
to a cullud chu’ch fur nothin’ else but to larf. De 
debbil gits dem folks $ but dat don’ do us no good, Miss 
Annie, an’ we’d rudder dey stay away. But you-all’s 
not dat kin’. I knows dat, sartin shuh.” 

When the two had taken leave of the old woman, 
and Miss Annie had gone out of the door, Aunt Patsy 
leaned very far forward, and stretching out her long 
arm, seized Mr. Croft by the skirt of his coat. He 
stepped back, quite surprised, and then she said to 
him, in a low but very earnest voice : “ I reckon dat 
dat ar sprain ankle was nuffin but a acciden’ ; but you 
look out, sah, you look out ! Hab you got dem little 
shoes handy % ” 

“Oh, yes,” said Lawrence, “I have them in my 
trunk.” 

“Keep ’em whar you kin put your han’ on ’em,” 
said Aunt Patsy, impressively. “You may want ’em 
yit. You min’ my wuhds.” 

“ I shall be sure to remember,” said Lawrence, as he 
hastened out to rejoin Annie. 

“What in the world had Aunt Patsy to say to 
you?” asked that somewhat surprised young lady. 

Then Lawrence told her how some time before 
Aunt Patsy had given him a pair of blue shoes, which 
she said would act as a preventive charm in case 
Mrs. Keswick should ever wish to do him harm, and 
that she had now called him back to remind him not 
to neglect this means of personal protection. “I 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


can’t imagine/’ said Lawrence, “ that your aunt would 
ever think of such a thing as doing me a harm, or how 
those little shoes would prevent her, if she wanted to ; 
but I suppose Aunt Patsy is crack-brained on some 
subjects, and so I thought it best to humor her, and 
took the shoes.” 

“Do you know,” said Miss Annie, after walking a 
little distance in silence, “ that I am afraid Aunt 
Patsy has done a dreadful thing, and one I never 
should have suspected her of. Aunt Keswick had a 
little baby once, and it died very young. She keeps 
its clothes in a box, and I remember when I was a 
little girl that she once showed them to me, and told 
me I was to take the place of that little girl, and that 
frightened me dreadfully, because I thought that I 
would have to die, and have my clothes put in a box. 
I recollect perfectly that there was a pair of little 
blue shoes among these clothes, and Aunt Patsy must 
have stolen them.” 

“ That surprises me,” said Lawrence. “ 1 supposed, 
from what I had heard of the old woman, that she 
was perfectly honest.” 

“ So she is,” said Annie. “ She has been a trusted 
servant in our family nearly all her life. But some 
negroes have very queer ideas about taking certain 
things, and I suppose Aunt Patsy had some particular 
reason for taking those shoes, for of course they could 
be of no value to her.” 

“I am very sorry,” said Lawrence, “that such 
sacred relics should have come into my possession, 
but I must admit that I would not like to give them 
back to your aunt.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Annie, “ that would never do 5 and 
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I wouldn’t dare to try to find her box and put them 
in it. It would seem like a desecration for any hand 
but her own to touch those things.” 

“ That is true,” said Lawrence, “ and you might get 
yourself into a lot of trouble by endeavoring to repair 
the mischief. Before I leave here, we may think of 
some plan of disposing of the little trotters. It might 
be well to give them back to Aunt Patsy and tell her 
to restore them.” 

“I don’t know,” said Miss Annie, with a slowness 
of reply and an irrelevance of demeanor which indi- 
cated she was not thinking of the words she was 
speaking. 

The sun was now very near the horizon, and that 
evening coolness which, in the autumn, comes on so 
quickly after the sunshine fades out of the air, made 
Lawrence give a little shrug with his shoulders. He 
proposed that they should quicken their pace, and as 
his companion made no objection, they soon reached 
the house. 

The next day being Sunday, breakfast was rather 
later than usual, and as Lawrence looked out on the 
bright morning, with the mists just disengaging them- 
selves from the many-hued foliage which crowned the 
tops of the surrounding hills, and on the recently 
risen sun, hanging in an atmosphere of gray and lilac, 
with the smile of Indian summer on its face, he 
thought he would like to take a stroll before that 
meal ; but either the length of his walk on the pre- 
vious day, or the rapidity of the latter portion ot it, 
had been rather too much for the newly recovered 
strength of his ankle, which now felt somewhat stiff 
and sore. When he mentioned this at the breakfast- 
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table, he received a good deal of condolence from the 
two ladies, especially Mrs. Keswick ; and at first it 
was thought that it might be well for him to give up 
his proposed attendance at the negro church. But to 
this Lawrence strongly objected, for he very much 
desired to see some of the peculiar religious services 
of the negroes. He had been talking on the subject 
the evening before with Mrs. Keswick, who had told 
him that in this part of the country, which lay in the 
“ black belt” of Virginia, where the negro population 
had always been thickest, these ceremonies were more 
characteristic of the religious disposition of the Afri- 
can than in those sections of the State where the 
white race exerted a greater influence upon the man- 
ners and customs of the colored people. 

“ But it will not be necessary to walk much,” said 
Miss Annie. “We can take the spring- wagon, and 
you can go with us, aunt.” 

The old lady permitted herself a little grin. “ When 
I go to church,” she said, “I go to a white folks’ 
church, and try to see what I can of white folks’ 
Christianity, though I must say that Christianity of 
the other color is often just as good, as far as works 
go. But it is natural that a stranger should want to 
see what kind of services the colored people have, so 
you two might as well get into the spring-wagon and 
go along.” 

“But shall we not deprive you of the vehicle?” 
said Lawrence. 

“I never go to church in the spring-wagon,” said 
the old lady, “so long as I am able to walk. And, 
besides, this is not our Sunday for preaching.” 

It seemed to Lawrence that an elderly person who 
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went about in a purple calico sunbonnet, and with an 
umbrella of the same material, might go to church in 
a wheelbarrow, so far as appearances were concerned ; 
but he had long ceased to wonder at Mrs. Keswick’s 
idiosyncrasies. 

“ I remember very well,” said Miss Annie, after the 
old lady had left the table, which she always did as 
soon as she had finished a meal, “when Aunt Kes- 
wick used to go to church in a big family carriage, 
which is now sleeping itself to pieces out there in the 
barn. But then she had a pair of big gray horses, 
one of them named Doctor and the other Colonel. 
But now she has only one horse, and I am going to 
tell Uncle Isham to harness that one up before he 
goes to church himself. You know, he is to take 
Aunt Patsy in the ox-cart, so he will have to go 
early.” 

They went to the negro church in the spring- 
wagon, Lawrence driving the jogging sorrel, and Miss 
Annie on the seat beside him. When they reached 
the old frame edifice in the woods beyond Howlett’s, 
they found gathered there quite a large assemblage, 
for this was one of those very attractive occasions 
called a “big preaching.” Horses and mules, and 
wagons of various kinds, many of the latter containing 
baskets of refreshments, were standing about under 
the trees ; and Mrs. Keswick’s cart and oxen, tethered 
to a little pine-tree, gave proof that Aunt Patsy had 
arrived. The inside of the church was nearly full, 
and outside, around the door, stood a large number of 
men and boys. The white visitors were looked upon 
with some surprise, but way was made for them to 
approach the door, and as soon as they entered the 
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building two of the officers of the church came for- 
ward to show them to one of the uppermost seats. 
But this honor Miss Annie strenuously declined. She 
preferred a seat near the open door, and therefore she 
and Mr. Croft were given a bench in that vicinity, of 
which they had sole possession. 

To Lawrence, who had never seen anything of the 
sort, the services which now began were exceedingly 
interesting 5 and as Annie had not been to a negro 
church since she was a little girl, and very seldom 
then, she gave very earnest and animated attention to 
what was going on. The singing, as it always is 
among the negroes, was powerful and melodious, and 
the long prayer of Brother Enoch Hines was one of 
those spirited and emotional statements of personal 
condition, and wild and ardent supplication, which 
generally pave the way for a most powerful awakening 
in an assemblage of this kind. Another hymn, sung 
in more vigorous tones than the first one, warmed up 
the congregation to such a degree that when Brother 
Hines opened the Bible, and made preparations for 
his discourse, he looked out upon an audience as anx- 
ious to be moved and stirred as he was to move and 
stir it. The sermon was intended to be a long one, 
for, had it been otherwise, Brother Hines had lost his 
reputation ; and therefore the preacher, after a few 
prefatory statements, delivered in a grave and solemn 
manner, plunged boldly into the midst of his exhorta- 
tions, knowing that he could go either backward or 
forward, presenting, with equal acceptance, fresh 
subject-matter or that already used, so long as his 
strength held out. 

He had not preached half an hour before his hear- 
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ers were so stirred and moved that a majority of them 
found it utterly impossible to merely sit still and listen. 
In different ways their awakening was manifested: 
some began to sing in a low voice ; others gently 
rocked their bodies; while fervent ejaculations of 
various kinds were heard from all parts of the church. 
From this beginning arose gradually a scene of re- 
ligious activity such as Lawrence had never ima- 
gined. Each individual allowed his or her fervor to 
express itself according to the method which best 
pleased the worshipper. Some kept to their seats 
and listened to the words of the preacher, interrupting 
him occasionally by fervent ejaculations ; others sang 
and shouted, sometimes standing up, clapping their 
hands, and stamping their feet ; while a large propor- 
tion of the able-bodied members left their seats and 
pushed their way forward to the wide, open space 
which surrounded the preacher’s desk, and prepared 
to engage in the exhilarating ceremony of the “ Jeru- 
salem Jump.” 

Two concentric rings were formed around the 
preacher, the inner one composed of women, the 
outer one of men, the faces of those forming the inner 
ring being turned towards those in the outer. As 
soon as all were in place, each brother reached forth 
his hand and took the hand of the sister opposite to 
him, and then each couple began to jump up and 
down violently, shaking hands and singing at the top 
of their voices. After about a minute of this, the 
two circles moved, one one way and one another, so 
that each brother found himself opposite a different 
sister. Hands were again immediately seized, and 
the jumping, hand-shaking, and singing went on. 

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Minute by minute the excitement increased; faster 
the worshippers jumped, and louder they sang. 
Through it all Brother Enoch Hines kept on with 
his sermon. It was very difficult now to make him- 
self heard, and the time for explanation or elucida- 
tion had long since passed; all he could do was to 
shout forth certain important and moving facts, and 
this he did over and over again, holding his hand at 
the side of his mouth, as if he were hailing a vessel in 
the wind. Much of what he said was lost in the din 
of the jumpers, but ever and anon could be heard 
ringing through the church the announcement : “ He 
wheel ob time is a- turnin’ roun’ ! ” 

In a group by themselves, in an upper corner of the 
congregation, were four or five very old women, who 
were able to manifest their pious enthusiasm in no 
other way than by rocking their bodies backward 
and forward, and singing with their cracked voices 
a grewsome and monotonous chant. This rude song 
had something of a wild and uncivilized nature, as if 
it had come down to these old people from the savage 
rites of their African ancestors. They did not sing in 
unison, but each squeaked or piped out her “Yi, 
wiho, yi, hoo ! ” according to the strength of her lungs 
and the degree of her exaltation. Prominent among 
these was old Aunt Patsy ; her little black eyes spar- 
kling through her great iron-bound spectacles ; her 
head and body moving in unison with the wild air of 
the unintelligible chant she sang; her long, skinny 
hands clapping up and down upon her knees ; while 
her feet, incased in their great green-baize slippers, 
unceasingly beat time upon the floor. 

So many persons being absent from their seats, the 
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group of old women was clearly visible to Annie and 
Lawrence, and Aunt Patsy also could easily see them. 
Whenever her head, in its ceaseless moving from side 
to side, allowed her eyes to fall upon the two white 
visitors, her ardor and fervency increased, and she 
seemed to be expressing a pious gratitude that Miss 
Annie and he whom she supposed to be her husband 
were still together in peace and safety. 

Annie was much affected by all she saw and heard. 
Her face was slightly pale, and occasionally she was 
moved by a little nervous tremor. Mr. Croft, too, 
was very attentive. His soul was not moved to en- 
thusiasm, and he did not feel, as his companion did 
now and then, that he would like to jump up and 
join in the dancing and the shouting ; but the scene 
made a very strong impression upon him. 

Around and around went the two rings of men and 
women, jumping, singing, and hand-shaking. Out 
from the centre of them came the stentorian shout : 
“ De wheel ob time is a- turnin’ roun’ ! ” From all 
parts of the church rose snatches of hymns, exultant 
shouts, groans, and prayers ; and, in the corner, the 
shrill chants of the old women were fitfully heard 
through the storm of discordant worship. 

In the midst of all the wild din and hubbub, the 
soul of Aunt Patsy looked out from the habitation 
where it had dwelt so long, and, without giving the 
slightest notice to any one, or attracting the least 
attention by its movements, it silently slipped 
away. 

The old habitation of the soul still sat in its chair, 
but no one noticed that it no longer sang, or beat 
time with its hands and feet. 


310 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

Not long after this, Lawrence looked round at his 
companion, and noticed that she was slightly trem- 
bling. “ Don’t yon think we have had enough of 
this ? ” he whispered. 

u Yes,” she answered, and they rose and went out. 
They thought they were the first who had left. 


/ 


311 


CHAPTER XXY 


When Mr. Croft and Miss Annie got into the spring- 
wagon, and the head of the sorrel was turned away 
from the church, Lawrence looked at his watch, and 
remarked that, as it was still quite early, there might 
he time for a little drive before going back to the 
house for dinner. The face of the young lady beside 
him was still slightly pale, and the thought came to 
him that it would be very well for her if her mind 
could be diverted from the abnormally inspiriting 
scene she had just witnessed. 

“ Dinner will be late to-day,” she said, “ for I saw 
Letty doing her best among the Jerusalem Jumpers.” 

“Very well,” said he, “we will drive. And now, 
where shall we go 1 ” 

“ If we take the cross-road at the store,” said Miss 
Annie, “ and go on for about half a mile, we can turn 
into the woods, and then there is a beautiful road 
through the trees which will bring us out on the 
other side of Aunt Keswick’s house. Junius took me 
that way not long ago.” 

So they turned at the store, much to the disgust of 
the plodding sorrel, who thought he was going directly 
home, and they soon reached the road that led through 
the woods. This was hard and sandy, as are many of 
the roads through the forests in that part of the coun- 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


try, and it would have been a very good driving road, 
had it not been for the occasional protrusion of tree- 
roots, which gave the wheels a little bump, and for the 
branches which, now and then, hung down somewhat 
too low for the comfort of a lady and gentleman rid- 
ing in a rather high spring-wagon without a cover. 
But Lawrence drove slowly, and so the root bumps 
were not noticed ; and when the low-hanging boughs 
were on his side, he lifted them so that his companion’s 
head could pass under, and when they happened to 
be on her side, Annie ducked her head, and her hat 
was never brushed off. But at times they drove 
quite a distance without overhanging boughs, and the 
pine-trees, surrounded by their smooth carpet of 
brown spines, gave forth a spicy fragrance in the 
warm but sparkling air ; the oak-trees stood up still 
dark and green, while the chestnuts were all dressed 
in rich yellow, with the chinquapin bushes by the 
roadside imitating them in color, as they tried to do 
in fruit. Sometimes a spray of purple flowers could 
be seen among the trees, and great patches of sunlight, 
which here and there came through the thinning 
foliage, fell, now upon the brilliantly scarlet leaves of 
a sweet-gum, and now upon the polished and brown- 
red dress of a neighboring black-gum. 

The woods were very quiet. There was no sound 
of bird or insect, and the occasional hare, or “ Molly 
Cottontail,” as Annie delightedly called it, who 
hopped across the road, made no noise at all. A 
gentle wind among the tops of the taller trees made 
a sound as of a distant sea $ but, besides this, little was 
heard but the low, crunching noise of the wheels, and 
the voices of Lawrence and Miss Annie. 

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Reaching a place where the road branched, Law- 
rence stopped the horse, and looked up each leafy 
lane. They were completely deserted. White people 
seldom walked abroad at this hour on Sunday, and 
the negroes of the neighborhood were at church. u Is 
not this a frightfully lonely place f ” he said. u One 
might imagine himself in a desert.” 

“ I like it,” replied Annie. “ It is so different from 
the wild, exciting tumult of that church. I am glad 
you took me away. At first I would not have missed 
it for the world, but there seemed to come into the 
stormy scene something oppressive and almost terri- 
fying.” 

“Iam glad I took you away,” said Lawrence, “ but 
it seems to me that your impression was not alto- 
gether natural. I thought that, amid all that mad 
enthusiasm, you were over-excited, not depressed. A 
solemn solitude like this would, to my thinking, be 
much more likely to lower your spirits. I don’t like 
solitude myself, and therefore I suppose it is that I 
thought an impressible nature like yours would find 
something sad in the loneliness of these silent woods.” 

Annie turned and fixed on him her large gray eyes. 
“ But I am not alone,” she said. 

As Lawrence looked into her eyes he saw that they 
were as clear as the purest crystal, and that he could 
look through them straight into her soul, and there 
he saw that this woman loved him. The vision was 
as sudden as if it had been a night scene lighted up 
by a flash of lightning, but it was as clear and plain as 
if it had been that same scene under the noonday sun. 

There are times in the life of a man when the god- 
dess of Reasonable Impulse raises her arms above her 
314 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

head and allows herself a little yawn. Then she 
takes off her crown and hangs it on the back of her 
throne ; after which she rests her sceptre on the floor, 
and, rising, stretches herself to her full height, and 
goes forth to take a long, refreshing walk by the 
waters of Unreflection. Then her minister, Pru- 
dence, stretches himself upon a bench, and, with his 
handkerchief over his eyes, composes himself for a 
nap. Discretion, Worldly Wisdom, and other trusted 
officers of her court, and even, sometimes, that agile 
page called Memory, no sooner see their royal mis- 
tress depart, than, by various doors, they leave the 
palace and wander far away. Then, silently, with 
sparkling eyes and parted lips, comes that fair being, 
Unthinking Love. She puts one foot upon the lower 
step of the throne ; she looks about her ; and, with a 
quick bound, she seats herself. Upon her tumbled 
curls she hastily puts the crown; with her small 
white hand she grasps the sceptre ; and then, rising, 
waves it, and issues her commands. The crowd of 
emotions which serve as her satellites seize the great 
seal from the sleeping Prudence, and the new Queen 
reigns ! 

All this now happened to Lawrence. Never before 
had he looked into the eyes of a woman who loved 
him ; and leaning over towards this one, he put his 
arm around her and drew her towards him. “And 
never shall you be alone,” he said. 

She looked up at him with tears starting to her 
eyes, and then she put her head against his breast. 
She was too happy to say anything, and she did not 
try. 

It was about a minute after this that the sober 
315 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


sorrel, who took no interest in what had occurred be- 
hind him, and a great deal of interest in his stable at 
home, started in an uncertain and hesitating way, 
and, finding that he was not checked, began to move 
onward. Lawrence looked up from the little head 
upon his breast, and called out, “ Whoa ! ” To this, 
however, the sorrel paid no attention. Lawrence 
then put forth his right hand to grasp the reins ; but 
having lately forgotten all about them, they had 
fallen out of the spring- wagon, and were now drag- 
ging upon the ground. It was impossible for him to 
reach them, and so, seizing the whip, he endeavored 
with its aid to hook them up. Failing in this, he was 
about to jump out and run to the horse’s head $ but 
perceiving his intention, Annie seized his arm. 
“ Don’t you do it!” she exclaimed. “ You’ll ruin 
your ankle ! ” 

Lawrence could not but admit to himself that he 
was not in condition to execute any feats of agility, 
and he also felt that Annie had a very charming way 
of holding fast to his arm as if she had a right to 
keep him out of danger. And now the sorrel broke 
into the jog-trot which was his usual pace. “It is 
very provoking,” said Lawrence. “I don’t think I 
ever allowed myself to drop the reins before.” 

“It doesn’t make the slightest difference,” said 
Annie, comfortingly. “This old horse knows the 
road perfectly well, and he doesn’t need a bit of 
driving. He will take us home just as safely as if 
you held the reins ; and now, don’t you try to get 
them, for you will only hurt yourself.” 

“ Very well,” said Lawrence, putting his arm around 
her again ; “ I am resigned. But I think you are very 
316 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

brave to sit so quiet and composed, under the circum- 
stances.” 

She looked at him with a smile. “Such a little 
circumstance don’t count just now,” she said. “You 
must stop that,” she added presently, “when we get 
to the edge of the woods.” 

Before long they came out into the open country, 
and found themselves in a lane which led by a wide 
circuit to the road passing Mrs. Keswick’s house. The 
old sorrel certainly behaved admirably : he held back 
when he descended a declivity; he walked over the 
rough places ; he trotted steadily where the road was 
smooth. 

“ It seems like our fate,” said Annie, who now sat 
up without an arm around her, the protecting woods 
having been left behind ; “ he just takes us along with- 
out our having anything to do with it.” 

“ He is not much of a horse,” said Lawrence, clasp- 
ing, in an unobservable way, the little hand which 
lay by his side, “ but the fate is charming.” 

Fortunately, there was no one upon the road to 
notice the reinless plight in which these two young 
people found themselves, and they were quite as well 
satisfied as if they had been doing their own driving. 
After a little period of thought, Annie turned an 
earnest face to Lawrence, and she said : “ Do you 
know that I never believed that you were really in 
love with Roberta March.” 

Lawrence squeezed her hand, but did not reply. 
He knew very well that he had loved Roberta March, 
and he was not going to lie about it. 

“ I thought so,” she continued, “ because I did not 
believe that any one who was truly in love would 
317 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


want to send other people about to propose for him, 
as you did.” 

“ That is not exactly the state of the case,” he said, 
“ but we must not talk of those things now $ that is 
all past and gone.” 

“ But if there ever was any love,” she persisted, 
“ are you sure that it is all gone? ” 

“Gone,” he answered earnestly, “as utterly and 
completely as the days of last summer.” 

And now the sorrel, of his own accord, stopped at 
Mrs. Keswick’s outer gate ; and Lawrence, getting 
down, opened the gate, took up the reins, and drove 
to the house in quite a proper way. 

When Mr. Croft helped Annie to descend from the 
spring- wagon, he did not squeeze her hand, nor ex- 
change with her any tender glances, for old Mrs. 
Keswick was standing at the top of the steps. “ Have 
you seen Letty ? ” she asked. 

“Letty?” said Miss Annie. “Oh, yes,” she added, 
as if she suddenly remembered that such a person ex- 
isted ; “ Letty was at church, and she was very active.” 

“Well,” said the old lady, “she must have taken 
more interest in the exercises than you did, for it is long 
past the time when I told her she must be home.” 

“I do not believe, madam,” said Lawrence, “that 
any one could have taken more interest in the exer- 
cises of this morning than we have.” 

At this, Annie could not help giving him a little 
look which would have provoked reflection in the 
mind of the old lady, had she not been very earnestly 
engaged in gazing out into the road, in the hope of 
seeing Letty. 

When Lawrence had gone into the office, and had 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


closed the door behind him, he stood in a meditative 
mood before the empty fireplace. He was making 
inquiries of himself in regard to what he had just 
done. He was not accusing himself, nor indulging 
in regrets ; he was simply investigating the matter. 
Here he stood, a man accepted by two women. If 
he had ever heard of any other man in a like condi- 
tion, he would have called that man a scoundrel ; and 
yet he did not deem himself a scoundrel. 

The facts in the case were easy enough to under- 
stand. For the first time in his life he had looked 
into the eyes of a woman who loved him, and he had 
discovered, to his utter surprise, that he loved her. 
There had been no plan— no prudent outlook into her 
nature and feelings, no cautious insight into his own. 
He had taken part in a most unpremeditated act of 
pure and simple love ; and that it was real and pure 
love on each side he no more doubted than he 
doubted that he lived. And yet, had he been an im- 
postor when, on that hill over there, he told Roberta 
March he loved her? No, he had been honest; he 
had loved her ; and since the time that he had been 
roused to action by the discovery of Junius Keswick’s 
intentions to renew his suit, it had been a love full of 
a rare and alluring beauty. But its charm, its fasci- 
nation, its very existence, had disappeared in the first 
flash of his knowledge that Annie Peyton loved him. 
Had his love for Roberta been a perfect one, had he 
been sure that she returned it, then it could not have 
been overthrown ; but it had gone, and a love com- 
plete and perfect stood in its place. He had seen 
that he was loved, and he loved. That was all ; but it 
would stand forever. 


319 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


This was the state of the case ; and now Lawrence 
set himself to discover if, in all ways, he had acted 
truly and honestly. He had been accepted by Miss 
March, but what sort of acceptance was it? Should 
he, as a man true to himself, accept such an accept- 
ance ? What was he to think of a woman who, very 
angry, as he had been informed, had sent him a mes- 
sage which meant everything in the world to him, if 
it meant anything, and had then dashed away with- 
out allowing him a chance to speak to her, or even 
giving him a nod of farewell? The last thing she had 
really said to him in this connection were those cruel 
words on Pine Top Hill with which she had asked 
him to choose a spot in which to be rejected. Could 
he consider himself engaged? Would a woman who 
cared for him act towards him in such a manner? 
After all, was that acceptance anything more than the 
result of pique? And could he not, quite as justly, 
accept the rejection which she had professed herself 
anxious to give him? 

A short time before, Lawrence had done his best 
to explain to his advantage these peculiarities of his 
status in regard to Miss March. He had said to him- 
self that she had threatened to reject him because she 
wished to punish him, and he had intended to implore 
her pardon, and expected to receive it. Over and 
over again had he argued with himself in this strain ; 
and yet, in spite of it all, he had not been able to 
bring himself into a state of mind in which he could 
sit down and write to her a letter which, in his esti- 
mation, would be certain to seal and complete the 
engagement. “ How very glad I am,” he now said to 
himself, “ that I never wrote that letter ! ” And this 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


was the only decision at which he had arrived when 
he heard Mrs. Keswick calling to him from the 
yard. 

He immediately went to the door, when the old 
lady informed him that, as Letty had not come hack, 
and did not appear to be intending to come back, and 
that as none of the other servants on the place had 
made their appearance, he might as well come into 
the house and try to satisfy his hunger on what cold 
food she and Mrs. Null had managed to collect. 

The most biting and spicy condiments of the little 
meal to which the three sat down were supplied by 
Mrs. Keswick, who reviled without stint those utterly 
thoughtless and heedless colored people who, once in 
the midst of their crazy religious exercises, totally 
forgot that they owed any duty whatever to those 
who employed them. Lawrence and Annie did not 
say much, but there was something peculiarly piquant 
in the way in which Annie brought and poured out 
the tea she had made, and which, with the exception 
of the old lady’s remarks, was the only warm part of 
the repast ; and there was an element of buoyancy in 
the manner of Mr. Croft as he took his cup to drink 
the tea. Although he said little at this meal, he 
thought a great deal, listening not at all to Mrs. Kes- 
wick’s tirades. “What a charmingly inconsiderate 
affair this has been !” he said to himself. “Nothing 
planned, nothing provided for or against ; all spon- 
taneous and from our very hearts. I never thought 
to tell her that she must say nothing to her aunt 
until we had agreed how everything should be ex- 
plained, and I don’t believe the idea that it is neces- 
sary to say anything to anybody has entered her 
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THE LATE MRS. NULL 


mind. But I must keep my eyes away from her, if I 
don’t want to bring on a premature explosion.” 

Whatever might be the result of the reasoning 
which this young man had to do with himself, it was 
quite plain that he was abundantly satisfied with 
things as they were. 

It was beginning to be dark when Letty and Uncle 
Isham returned and explained why they had been so 
late in returning. 

Old Aunt Patsy had died in church. 


322 


CHAPTER XXYI 


“ Lawrence,” said Annie, on the forenoon of the next 
day, as they were sitting together in the parlor with 
the house to themselves, Mrs. Keswick having gone to 
Aunt Patsy’s cabin to supervise proceedings there, 
“ Lawrence, don’t you feel glad that we did not have 
a chance to speak to dear old Aunt Patsy about those 
little shoes ? Perhaps she had forgotten that she had 
stolen them, and so went to heaven without that sin 
on her soul.” 

“ That is a very comfortable way of looking at it,” 
said Lawrence, “but wouldn’t it be better to assume 
that she did not steal them ? ” 

“ I am very sorry,” said Annie, “ but that is not easy 
to do. But don’t let us think anything more about 
that. And don’t you feel very glad that the poor old 
creature, who looked so happy as she sat singing and 
clapping her hands on her knees, didn’t die until after 
we had left the church? If it had happened while 
we were there, I don’t believe—” 

“Don’t believe what?” asked Lawrence. 

“Well, that you now would be sitting with your 
arm on the back of my chair.” 

Lawrence was quite sure, from what had been told 
him, that Aunt Patsy’s demise had taken place before 
323 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


they left the church. But he did not say so to Annie. 
He merely took his arm from the back of her chair 
and placed it around her. 

“ And do you know / 7 said she, “ that Letty told me 
something, this morning, that is so funny, and yet in a 
certain way so pathetic, that it made me laugh and 
cry both. She said that Aunt Patsy always thought 
that you were Mr. Null . 77 

At this Lawrence burst out laughing; but Annie 
checked him and went on : u And she told Letty in 
church, when she saw us two come in, that she be- 
lieved she could die happy now, since she had seen 
Miss Annie married to such a pert gentleman, and 
that it looked as if old miss had got over her grudge 
against him . 77 

“And didn 7 t Letty undeceive her ! 77 asked Law- 
rence. 

“ No ; she said it would be a pity to upset the mind 
of such an old woman, and she didn’t do it . 77 

“ Then the good Aunt Patsy died , 77 said Lawrence, 
“ thinking I was that wretched tramp of a bone-dust 
pedler which the fancy of your aunt has conjured up. 
That explains the interest the venerable colored 
woman took in me. It is now quite easy to under- 
stand ; for if your aunt abused your mythical husband 
to everybody as she did to me, I don’t wonder Aunt 
Patsy thought I was in danger . 77 

“ Poor old woman ! 77 said Annie, looking down at 
the floor ; “I am so glad that we helped her to die 
happy.” 

“As she was obliged to anticipate the truth,” said 
Lawrence, “ in order to derive any comfort from it, I 
am glad she did it. But although I am delighted, 
324 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


more than my words can tell you, to take the place of 
your Mr. Null, you must not expect me to have any 
of his attributes .’ 7 

“ Now just listen to me, sir,” said Annie. “ I don’t 
want you to say one word against Mr. Null. If it had 
not been for that good Freddy, things would have 
been very different from what they are now. If you 
care for me at all, you owe me entirely to Freddy 
Null.” 

“ Entirely?” asked Lawrence. 

“Of course I mean in regard to opportunities of 
finding out things and saying them. If Aunt Keswick 
had supposed I was only Annie Peyton, she would not 
have allowed Mr. Croft to interfere with her plans for 
Junius and me. I expected Mr. Null to be of service 
to me, but no one could have imagined that he would 
have brought about anything like this.” 

u Blessed be Null ! ” exclaimed Lawrence. 

Annie asked him to please be more careful, for 
how did he know that one of the servants might not 
be sweeping the front porch, and of course she would 
look in at the windows. 

11 But, my dear child,” said Lawrence, pushing back 
his chair to a prudent distance, “we must seriously 
consider this Null business. We shall have to inform 
your aunt of the present state of affairs, and before 
we do that we must explain what sort of person 
Frederick Null, Esquire, really was— I am not willing 
to admit that he exists, even as a myth.” 

u Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! ” exclaimed Annie. “We shall 
have a dreadful time ! When Aunt Keswick knows 
that there never was any Mr. Null, and then hears 
that you and I are engaged, it will throw her into the 
325 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

most dreadful state of mind that she has ever been in, 
in her life ; and father has told me of some of the 
awful family earthquakes that Aunt Keswick has 
brought about when things went wrong with her.” 

“We must be very cautious,” said Lawrence, “and 
neither of us must say a word, or do anything that 
may arouse her suspicions, until we have settled upon 
the best possible method of making the facts known 
to her. The case is indeed a complicated one.” 

“And what makes it more so,” said Annie, “is 
Aunt Keswick’s belief that you are in love with Miss 
March, and that you want to get a chance to propose 
to her. She does think that, doesn’t she? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “I must admit that she 
does.” 

“ And she must be made to understand that that is 
entirely at an end,” continued Annie. “ All this will 
be a very difficult task, Lawrence, and I don’t see 
how it is to be done.” 

“ But we shall do it,” he answered ; “ and we must 
not forget to be very prudent until it is fully settled 
how we shall do it.” 

When Lawrence retired to his room, and sat down 
to hold that peculiar court in which he was judge, 
jury, lawyers, and witnesses, as well as the prisoner at 
the bar, he had to do with a case a great deal more 
complicated and difficult than that which perplexed 
the mind of Miss Annie Peyton. He began by the 
very unjudicial act of pledging himself, to himself, 
that nothing should interfere with this new, this true 
love. In spite of all that might be said, done, or 
thought, Annie Peyton should be his wife. There 
was no indecision whatever in regard to the new 
326 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


love ; the only question was, 11 What is to be done 
about the old one ? ” 

Lawrence could not admit, for a moment, that he 
could have spoken to Roberta March as he had spoken 
if he had not loved her $ but he could now perceive 
that that love had been in no small degree impaired 
and weakened by the manner of its acceptance. The 
action of Miss March on her last day here had much 
more chilled his ardor than her words on Pine Top 
Hill. He had not before examined thoroughly into 
the condition of that ardor after the departure of the 
lady, but it was plain enough now. 

There was, therefore, no doubt whatever in regard 
to his love for Miss March ; he was quite ready and 
able to lay that aside. But what about her accept- 
ance of it? How could he lay that aside? 

This was the real case before the court. The wit- 
nesses could give no available testimony ; the lawyers 
argued feebly ; the jury disagreed ; and Lawrence, in 
his capacity of judge, dismissed the case. 

In his efforts to conduct his mind through the chan- 
nels of law and equity, Lawrence had not satisfied 
himself, and his thoughts began to be moved by what 
might be termed his military impulses. “I made a 
charge into the camp,” he said, with a little downward 
drawing of the corners of his mouth, u and I did not 
capture the commander-in-chief. And now I intend 
to charge out again.” 

He sat down to his table and wrote the following note : 

“My dear Miss March: I have been waiting for a 
good many days, hoping to receive, either from you or 
Mr. Keswick, an explanation of the message you sent 
to me by him. I now believe that it will be impossible 

327 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


to give a satisfactory explanation of that message. I 
therefore recur to our last private interview, and wish 
to say to you that I am ready, at any time, to meet you 
under either a sycamore or a cherry-tree.” 

And then he signed it, and addressed it to Miss 
March at Midbranch. This being done, he put on his 
hat and stepped out to see if a messenger could be 
found to carry the letter to its destination, for he did 
not wish to wait for the semi- weekly mail. Near the 
house he met Annie. 

“What have you been doing all this time?” she 
asked. 

“I have been writing a letter,” he said, “and am 
now looking for some colored boy who will carry it 
for me.” 

“ Whom is it to ? ” she asked. 

“ Miss March,” was his answer. 

“ Let me see it,” said Annie. 

At this Lawrence looked at her with wide-open 
eyes, and then he laughed. Never, since he had been 
a child, had there been any one who would have 
thought of such a thing as asking to see a private 
letter which he had written to some one else $ and 
that this young girl should stand up before him with 
her straightforward, expectant gaze, and make such a 
request of him, in the first instance amused him. 

“You don’t mean to say,” she added, “that you 
would write anything to Miss March which you would 
not let me see ? ” 

“ This letter,” said Lawrence, “ was written for Miss 
March, and no one else. It is simply the winding up 
of that old affair.” 


328 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ Give it to me/’ said Annie, “ and let me see how 
you wound it up.” 

Lawrence smiled, looked at her in silence for a 
moment, and then handed her the letter. 

“ I don’t want you to think,” she said, as she took 
it, “ that I am going to ask you to show me all the 
letters you write. But when you write one to a lady 
like Miss March, I want to know what you say to her.” 
And then she read the letter. When she had finished, 
she turned to Lawrence and, with her countenance 
full of amazement, exclaimed : “ I haven’t the least 
idea in the world what all this means ! What message 
did she send you? And why should you meet her 
under a tree?” 

These questions went so straight to the core of the 
affair, and were so peculiarly difficult to answer, that 
Lawrence, for the moment, found himself in the very 
unusual position of not knowing what to say • but he 
presently remarked : “ Do you think it is of any ad- 
vantage to either of us to talk over this affair, which 
is now past and gone ? ” 

“ I don’t want to talk over any of it,” said Annie, 
very promptly, “ except the part of it which is referred 
to in this letter ; but I want to know about that.” 

“ That covers the most important part of it,” said 
Lawrence. 

“Very good,” she answered, “and so you can tell it 
to me. And, now that I think of it, you can tell me, 
at the same time, exactly why you wanted to find my 
cousin Junius. I think I ought to know that, too.” 

“ Very well, then,” replied Lawrence ; “ if you have 
the least feeling about it, I will relate the whole 
affair, from beginning to end.” 

329 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ That ? perhaps, will be the best thing to do, after 
all , 77 said Annie. “ And suppose we take a walk over 
the fields, and then you can tell it without being 
interrupted . 77 

But Lawrence did not feel that his ankle would 
allow him to accept this invitation, for it had hurt 
him a good deal since his walk to Aunt Patsy 7 s cabin. 
He said so to Annie, and excited in her the deepest 
feelings of commiseration. 

“ You must take no more walks of any length , 77 she 
exclaimed, “ until you are quite, quite well ! It was 
my fault that you took that tramp to Aunt Patsy’s. 
I ought to have known better. But then , 77 she said, 
looking up at him, “you were not under my charge. 
I shall take very good care of you now . 77 

“For my part , 77 he said, “I am glad I have this 
little relapse, for now I can stay here longer . 77 

“ I am very, very sorry for the relapse , 77 said she, 
“but awfully glad for the stay. And you mustn’t 
stand another minute. Let us go and sit in the arbor. 
The sun is shining straight into it, and that will make 
it all the more comfortable while you are telling me 
about those things . 77 

They sat down in the arbor, and Lawrence told 
Annie the whole history of his affair with Miss March, 
from the beginning to the end $ that is, if the end had 
been reached ; although he intimated no doubt to her 
upon this point. This avowal he had never expected 
to make. In fact, he had never contemplated its pos- 
sibility. But now he felt a certain satisfaction in tell- 
ing it. Every item, as it was related, seemed thrown 
aside forever. “ And now, then, my dear Annie,” he said, 
when he had finished, “ what do you think of all that f 77 
330 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Well,” she said, “in the first place, I am still 
more of the opinion than I was before that yon never 
were really in love with her. You did entirely too 
much planning and investigating and calculating; 
and when, at last, you did come to the conclusion to 
propose to her, you did not do it so much of your own 
accord as because you found that another man would 
be likely to get her if you did not make a pretty 
quick move yourself. And as to that acceptance, I 
don’t think anything of it at all. I believe she was 
very angry at Junius because he consented to bring 
your messages, when he ought to have been his own 
messenger, and that she gave him that answer just to 
rack his soul with agony. I don’t believe she ever 
dreamed that he would take it to you. And, to tell 
the simple truth, I believe, from what I saw of her 
that morning, that she was thinking very little of you, 
and a great deal of him. To be sure, she was fiery 
angry with him, but it is better to be that way with 
a lover than to pay no attention to him at all.” 

This was a view of the case which had never struck 
Lawrence before, and although it was not very flat- 
tering to him, it was very comforting. He felt that 
it was extremely likely that this young woman had 
been able to truthfully divine, in a case in which he 
had failed, the motives of another young woman. 
Here was a further reason for congratulating himself 
that he had not written to Miss March. 

“ And as to the last part of the letter,” said Annie, 
“you are not going under any cherry-tree, or syca- 
more either, to be refused by her. What she said to 
you was quite enough for a final answer, without any 
signing or sealing under trees or anywhere else. I 
331 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


think the best thing that can be done with this pre- 
cious epistle is to tear it up.” 

Lawrence was amused by the piquant earnestness 
of this decision. “But what am I to do?” he asked. 
“I can’t let the matter rest in this unfinished and 
unsatisfactory condition.” 

“You might write to her,” said Annie, “and tell 
her that you have accepted what she said to you on 
Pine Top Hill as a conclusive answer, and that you 
now take back everything you ever said on the sub- 
ject you talked of that day. And do you think it 
would be well to put in anything about your being 
otherwise engaged ? ” 

At this Lawrence laughed. “ I think that expres- 
sion would hardly answer,” he said, “ but I will write 
another note, and we shall see how you like it.” 

“That will be very well,” said the happy Annie, 
“ and if I were you I’d make it as gentle as I could. 
It’s of no use to hurt her feelings.” 

“ Oh, I don’t want to do that,” said Lawrence ; “and 
now that we have the opportunity, let us consider the 
question of informing your aunt of our engagement.” 

“ Oh, dear, dear, dear ! ” said Annie, “ that is a great 
deal worse than informing Miss March that you don’t 
want to be engaged to her.” 

“ That is true,” said Lawrence. “ It is not by any 
means an easy piece of business. But we might as 
well look it square in the face, and determine what is 
to be done about it.” 

“It is simple enough, just as we look at it,” said 
Annie. “ All we have to do is to say that, knowing 
that Aunt Keswick had written to my father that she 
was determined to make a match between Cousin 
332 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Junius and me, I was afraid to come down here with- 
out putting up some insurmountable obstacle between 
me and a man that I had not seen since I was a little 
girl. Of course I would say very decidedly that I 
wouldn’t have married him if I hadn’t wanted to ; 
but then, considering Aunt Keswick’s very open way 
of carrying out her plans, it would have been very 
unpleasant, and indeed impossible, for me to be in the 
house with him unless she saw that there was no hope 
of a marriage between us ; and for this reason I took 
the name of Mrs. Null, or Mrs. Nothing, and came 
down here secure under the protection of a husband 
who never existed. And then, we could say that you 
and I were a good deal together, and that, although 
you had supposed, when you came here, that you 
were in love with Miss March, you had discovered that 
this was a mistake, and that afterwards we fell in love 
with each other, and are now engaged. That would 
be a straightforward statement of everything, just as 
it happened ; but the great trouble is, how are we 
going to tell it to Aunt Keswick ! ” 

“You are right,” said Lawrence. “How are we 
going to tell it I ” 

“ It need not be told ! ” thundered a strong voice 
close to their ears. And then there was a noise of 
breaking latticework and cracking vines, and through 
the back part of the arbor came an old woman wear- 
ing a purple sunbonnet, and beating down all obsta- 
cles before her with a great purple umbrella. “You 
needn’t tell it ! ” cried Mrs. Keswick, standing in the 
middle of the arbor, her eyes glistening, her form 
trembling, and her umbrella quivering in the air. 
“You needn’t tell it! It’s told!” 

333 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Graphic and vivid descriptions have been written 
of those furious storms of devastating wind and del- 
uging rain which suddenly sweep away the beauty 
of some fair tropical scene j and we have read, too, of 
dreadful cyclones and tornadoes, which rush, in mad 
rage, over land and sea, burying great ships in a vast 
tumult of frenzied waves, or crushing to the earth 
forests, buildings, everything that may lie in their 
awful paths: but no description could be written 
which could give an adequate idea of the storm which 
now burst upon Lawrence and Annie. The old lady 
had seen these two standing together in the yard, con- 
versing most earnestly $ she had then seen Annie read 
a letter that Lawrence gave her ; and then she had 
perceived the two, in close converse, enter the arbor 
and sit down together, without the slightest regard for 
the rights of Mr. Null. 

Mrs. Keswick looked upon all this as somewhat 
more out-of-the-way than the usual proceedings of 
these young people, and there came into her mind 
a curiosity to know what they were saying to each 
other. So she immediately repaired to the large 
garden, and quietly made her way to the back of the 
arbor, in which advantageous position she heard the 
whole of Lawrence’s story of his love-affair with Miss 
March, Annie’s remarks upon the same, and the facts 
of this young lady’s proposed confession in regard to 
her marriage with Mr. Null and her engagement to 
Mr. Croft. 

Then she burst in upon them. The tornado and the 
cyclone raged 5 the thunder rolled and crashed 5 and 
„ the white lightning of her wrath flashed upon the two 
as if it would scathe and annihilate them as they stood 
334 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

before her. Neither of them had ever known or 
imagined anything like this. It had been long since 
Mrs. Keswick had had an opportunity of exercising 
that power of vituperative torment which had driven 
a husband to the refuge of a reverted pistol, which 
had banished for life relatives and friends, and 
which, in the shape of a promissory curse, had held 
apart those who would have been husband and wife ; 
and now, like the long-stored-up venom of a serpent, 
it burst out with the direful force given by concentra- 
tion and retention. 

At the first outburst Annie had turned pale and 
shrunk back, but now she clung to the side of Law- 
rence, who, although his face was somewhat blanched 
and his form trembled a little with excitement, still 
stood up bravely, and endeavored, but ineffectually, 
to force upon the old lady’s attention a denial of her 
bitter accusations. With face almost as purple as the 
bonnet she wore or the umbrella she shook in the 
air, the old lady first addressed her niece. With 
scorn and condemnation she spoke of the deceit which 
the young girl had practised upon her. But this part 
of the exercises was soon over. She seemed to think 
that, although nothing could be viler than Annie’s 
conduct towards her, still, the fact that Mr. Null no 
longer existed put Annie again within her grasp and 
control, and made it unnecessary to say much to her 
on this occasion. It was upon Lawrence that the 
main cataract of her fury poured. It would be wrong 
to say that she could not find words to express her ire 
towards him. She found plenty of them, and used 
them all. He had deceived her most abominably ; he 
had come there the expressed and avowed lover of 
335 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Miss March ; he had connived with her niece in her 
deceit; he had taken advantage of all the opportu- 
nities she gave him to attain the legitimate object of 
his visit, to inveigle into his snares this silly and 
absurd young woman ; and he had dared to interfere 
with the plans which, by day and by night, she had 
been maturing for years. In vain did Lawrence en- 
deavor to answer or explain. She stopped not, nor 
listened to one word. 

“ And you need not imagine,” she screamed at him, 
11 that you are going to turn round, when you like, 
and marry anybody you please. You are engaged, 
body and soul, to Koberta March, and have no right, 
by laws of man or Heaven, to marry anybody else. If 
you breathe a word of love to any other woman, it 
makes you a vile criminal in the eyes of the law, and 
renders you liable to prosecution, sir ! Your affianced 
bride knows nothing of what her double-faced snake 
of a lover is doing here, but she shall know speedily. 
That is a matter which I take into my own hands. 
Out of my way, both of you ! ” 

And with these words she charged by them, and 
rushed out of the arbor and into the house. 


336 


CHAPTER XXVII 

They were not a happy pair, Lawrence Croft and 
Annie Peyton, as they stood together in the arbor 
after old Mrs. Keswick had left them. They were 
both a good deal shaken by the storm they had passed 
through. 

“ Lawrence,” said Annie, looking up to him with 
her large eyes full of earnestness, “ there surely is no 
truth in what she said about your being legally bound 
to Miss March ? ” 

“Hone in the least,” said Lawrence. “Ho man, 
under the circumstances, would consider himself en- 
gaged to a woman. At any rate, there is one thing 
which I wish you to understand, and that is that I 
am not engaged to Miss March, and that I am engaged 
to you. Ho matter what is said or done, you and I 
belong to each other.” 

Annie made no answer, but she pressed his hand 
tightly as she looked up into his face. He kissed her 
as she stood, notwithstanding his belief that old Mrs. 
Keswick was fully capable of bounding down on him, 
umbrella in hand, from an upper window. 

“What do you think she is going to do?” Annie 
asked presently. 

“My dear Annie,” said he, “I do not believe that 
337 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


there is a person on earth who could divine what your 
Aunt Keswick is going to do. As to that, we must 
simply wait and see. But, for my part, I know what 
I must do. I must write a letter to Miss March, and 
inform her, plainly and definitely, that I have ceased 
to be a suitor for her hand. I think, also, that it will 
be well to let her know that we are engaged?” 

“ Yes,” said Annie, “for she will be sure to hear it 
now. But she will think it is a very prompt pro- 
ceeding.” 

“ That’s exactly what it was,” said Lawrence, smil- 
ing,— “ prompt and determined. There was no doubt 
or indecision about any part of our affair, was there, 
little one?” 

“ Not a bit of it,” said Annie, proudly. 

At dinner, that day, Annie took her place at one 
end of the table, and Lawrence his at the other, but 
the old lady did not make her appearance. She was 
so erratic in her goings and comings, and had so often 
told them they must never wait for her, that Annie 
cut the ham and Lawrence carved the fowl, and the 
meal proceeded without her. But while they were eat- 
ing Mrs. Keswick was heard coming down-stairs from 
her room, the front door was opened and slammed vio- 
lently, and from the dining-room windows they saw her 
go down the steps, across the yard, and out of the gate. 

“I do hope,” ejaculated Annie, “that she has not 
gone away to stay ! ” 

If Annie had remembered that the boy Plez, in a 
clean jacket and long white apron, officiated as waiter, 
she would not have said this, but then she would have 
lost some information. “ Ole miss not gone to stay,” 
he said, with the license of an untrained retainer. 

338 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

“ She gone to Howlettses, an’ she done tole Ann 7 Letty 
she’ll he back ag’in dis ebenin’.” 

“If Aunt Keswick don’t come back,” said Annie, 
when the two were in the parlor after dinner, “ I shall 
go after her. I don’t intend to drive her out of the 
house.” 

“ Don’t you trouble yourself about that, my dear,” 
said Lawrence. “ She is too angry not to come back.” 

“There is one thing,” said Annie, after a while, 
“ that we really ought to do. To-morrow Aunt Patsy 
is to be buried, and before she is put into the ground 
those little shoes should be returned to Aunt Keswick. 
It seems to me that justice to poor Aunt Patsy re- 
quires that this should be done. Perhaps now she 
knows how wicked it was to steal them.” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “I think it would be well to 
put them back where they belong ; but how can you 
manage it ? ” 

“ If you will give them to me,” said Annie, “ I will 
go up to aunt’s room, now that she is away, and if she 
keeps the box in the same place where it used to be, 
I’ll slip them into it. I hate dreadfully to do it, but 
I really feel that it is a duty.” 

When Lawrence, with some little difficulty, walked 
across the yard to get the shoes from his trunk, Annie 
ran after him, and waited at the office door. “You 
must not take a step more than necessary,” she said, 
“ and so I won’t make you come back to the house.” 

When Lawrence gave her the shoes, and her hand a 
little squeeze at the same time, he told her that he 
should sit down immediately and write his letter. 

“ And I,” said Annie, “ will go and see what I can 
do with these.” 


339 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


With the shoes in her pocket, she went up-stairs 
into her aunt 7 s room $ and after looking around hastily, 
as if to see that the old lady had not left the ghost of 
herself in charge, she approached the closet in which 
the sacred pasteboard box had always been kept. But 
the closet was locked. Turning away, she looked about 
the room. There was no other place in which there 
was any probability that the box would be kept. 
Then she became nervous ; she fancied she heard the 
click of the yard gate. She would not for anything 
have her aunt catch her in that room ; nor would she 
take the shoes away with her. Hastily placing them 
upon a table, she slipped out, and hurried into her 
own room. 

It was about an hour after this that Mrs. Keswick 
came rapidly up the steps of the front porch. She 
had been to Howlett’s to carry a letter which she had 
written to Miss March, and had there made arrange- 
ments to have that letter taken to Midbranch very 
early the next morning. She had wished to find some 
one who would start immediately ; but as there was no 
moon, and as the messenger would arrive after the 
family were all in bed, she had been obliged to aban- 
don this more energetic line of action. But the letter 
would get there soon enough ; and if it did not bring 
down retribution on the head of the man who lodged 
in her office, and who, she said to herself, had worked 
himself into her plans like the rot in a field of pota- 
toes, she would ever after admit that she did not know 
how to write a letter. All the way home she had 
conned over her method of action until Mr. Brandon, 
or a letter, should come from Midbranch. 

She had already attacked, together, the unprincipled 
340 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


pair who found shelter in her house, and she now de- 
termined to come upon them separately, and torment 
each soul by itself. Annie, of course, would come in 
for the lesser share of the punishment, for the fact 
that the wretched and depraved Null was no more, 
had, in a great measure, mitigated her offence. She 
was safe, and her aunt intended to hold her fast, and 
do with her as she would when the time and Junius 
came. But upon Lawrence she would have no mercy. 
When she had delivered him into the hands of Mr. 
Brandon, or those of Roberta’s father, or the clutches 
of the law, she would have nothing more to do with 
him ; but until that time she would make him bewail 
the day when he deceived and imposed upon her by 
causing her to believe that he was in love with another 
when he was, in reality, trying to get possession of her 
niece. There were a great many things which she 
had not thought to say to him in the arbor, but she 
would pour the whole hot mass upon his head that 
evening. 

Stamping up the stairs, and thumping her umbrella 
upon every step as she went, hot vengeance breathing 
from between her parted lips, and her eyes flashing 
with the delight of prospective fury, she entered her 
room. The light of the afternoon had but just begun 
to wane, and she had not made three steps into the 
apartment before her eyes fell upon a pair of faded, 
light-blue shoes, which stood side by side upon a table. 
She stopped suddenly, and stood, pale and rigid. Her 
grasp upon her umbrella loosened, and, unnoticed, it 
fell upon the floor. Then, her eyes still fixed upon 
the shoes, she moved slowly sidewise towards the 
closet. She tried the door, and found it still locked 5 
341 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


then she put her hand in her pocket, drew out^the 
key, looked at it, and dropped it. With faltering 
steps she drew near the table, and stood supporting 
herself by the back of a chair. Any one else would 
have seen upon that table merely a pair of baby’s 
shoes 5 but she saw more. She saw the tops of the 
little socks which she had folded away for the last 
time so many years before. She saw the first short 
dress her child had ever worn ; it was tied up with 
pink ribbons at the shoulders, from which hung two 
white, plump little arms. There was a little neck, 
around which was a double string of coral fastened by 
a small gold clasp. Above this was a face, a baby face 
with soft, pale eyes, and its head covered with curls 
of the lightest yellow, not arranged in artistic negli- 
gence, but smooth, even, and regular, as she so often 
had turned, twisted, and set them. It was indeed her 
baby girl who had come to her, as clear and vivid in 
every feature, limb, and garment as were the real 
shoes upon the table. For many minutes she stood, 
her eyes fixed upon the little apparition ; then, slowly, 
she sank upon her knees by the chair ; her sunbonnet, 
which she had not removed, was bowed, so the pale 
eyes of the little one could not see her face, and from 
her own eyes came the first tears that that old woman 
had shed since her baby’s clothes had been put away 
in the box. 

Lawrence’s letter to Miss March was a definitely 
expressed document, intended to cover all the ground 
necessary, and no more ; but it could not be said that 
it was entirely satisfactory to himself. His case, to 
say the least of it, was a difficult one to defend. He 
342 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


was aware that his course might be looked upon by 
others as dishonorable, although he assured himself 
that he had acted justly. It might have been better 
to wait for a positive declaration from Miss March, 
that she had not truly accepted him, before engaging 
himself to another lady. But then, he said to him- 
self, true love never waits for anything. At all events, 
he could write no better letter than the one he had 
produced, and he hoped he should have an oppor- 
tunity to show it to Annie before he sent it. 

He need not have troubled himself in this regard, 
for he and Annie were not disturbed during the rest 
of that day by the appearance of Mrs. Keswick. But 
after the letter had been duly considered and ap- 
proved, he found it difficult to obtain a messenger. 
There was no one on the place who would undertake 
to walk to Midbranch, and he could not take the 
liberty of using Mrs. Keswick’s horse for the trip, so 
it was found necessary to wait until the morrow, when 
the letter could be taken to Howlett’s, where, if no 
one could be found to carry it immediately, it would 
have to be intrusted to the mail, which went out the 
next day. Lawrence, of course, knew nothing of Mrs. 
Keswick’s message to Midbranch, or he would have 
been still more desirous that his letter should be 
promptly despatched. 

The evening was not a very pleasant one. The lovers 
did not know at what moment the old lady might 
descend upon them, and the element of unpleasant 
expectancy which pervaded the atmosphere of the 
house was somewhat depressing. They talked a good 
deal of the probabilities of Mrs. Keswick’s action. 
Lawrence expected that she would order him away, 
343 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


although Annie had stoutly maintained that her aunt 
would have no right to do this, as he was not in a 
condition to travel. This argument, however, made 
little impression upon Lawrence, who was not the 
man to stay in any house where he was not wanted ; 
besides, he knew very well that for any one to stay in 
Mrs. Keswick’s house when she did not want him 
would be an impossibility. But he did not intend to 
slip away in any cowardly manner, and leave Annie 
to bear alone the brunt of the second storm. He felt 
sure that such a storm was impending, and he was also 
quite certain that its greatest violence would break 
upon him. He would stay, therefore, and meet the 
old lady when she next descended upon them; and 
before he went away he would endeavor to utter some 
words in defence of himself and Annie. 

They separated early, and a good deal of thinking 
was done by them before they went to sleep. 

The next morning they had only each other for 
company at breakfast ; but they had just risen from 
that meal when they were startled by the entrance 
of Mrs. Keswick. Having expected her appearance 
during the whole of the time they were eating, they 
had no reason to be startled by her coming now, but 
for their subsequent amazement at her appearance and 
demeanor they had every reason in the world. Her 
face was pale and grave, with an air of rigidity about 
it which was not common to her, for, in general, 
she possessed a very mobile countenance. Without 
speaking a word, she advanced towards Lawrence, 
and extended her hand to him. He was so much sur- 
prised that, while he took her hand in his, he could 
only murmur some unintelligible form of morning 
344 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


salutation. Then Mrs. Keswick turned to Annie, and 
shook hands with her. The young girl grew pale, 
but said not a word ; but some tears came into her 
eyes, although why this happened she could not have 
explained to herself. Having finished this little per- 
formance, the old lady walked to the back window 
and looked out into the flower-garden, although there 
was really nothing there to see. Now Annie found 
voice to ask her aunt if she would not have some 
breakfast. 

“No,” said Mrs. Keswick; “my breakfast was 
brought up-stairs to me.” And with that she turned 
and went out of the room. She closed the door be- 
hind her, but scarcely had she done so when she 
opened it again and looked in. It was quite plain to 
the two silent and astonished observers of her actions 
that she was engaged in the occupation, very unusual 
with her, of controlling an excited condition of mind. 
She looked first at one and then at the other, and 
then she said, in a voice which seemed to meet with 
occasional obstructions in its course : “ I have nothing 
more to say about anything. Do just what you please, 
only don’t talk to me about it.” And she closed the 
door. 

« What is the meaning of all this ? ” said Lawrence, 
advancing towards Annie. “What has come over 
her ? ” 

“ I am sure I don’t know,” said Annie ; and with 
this she burst into tears, and cried as she would have 
scorned to cry during the terrible storm of the day 
before. 

That morning Lawrence Croft was a very much 
puzzled man. What had happened to Mrs. Keswick 
345 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

he could not divine, and at times he imagined that 
her changed demeanor was perhaps nothing but an 
artful cover to some new and more ruthless attack. 

Annie took occasion to be with her aunt a good deal 
during the morning, but she reported to Lawrence 
that the old lady had said very little, and that little 
related entirely to household affairs. 

Mrs. Keswick ate dinner with them. Her manner 
was grave and even stern j but she made a few re- 
marks in regard to the weather and some neighbor- 
hood matters, and before the end of the meal both 
Lawrence and Annie fancied that they could see some 
little signs of a return to her usual humor, which was 
pleasant enough when nothing happened to make it 
otherwise. But expectations of an early return to her 
ordinary manner of life were fallacious. She did not 
appear at supper, and she spent the evening in her 
own room. Lawrence and Annie had thus ample op- 
portunity to discuss this novel and most unexpected 
state of affairs. They did not understand it, but it 
could not fail to cheer and encourage them. Only 
one thing they decided upon, and that was that Law- 
rence could not go away until he had had an oppor- 
tunity of fully comprehending the position, in relation 
to Mrs. Keswick, in which he and Annie stood. 

About the middle of the evening, as Lawrence was 
thinking that it was time for him to retire to his room 
in the little house in the yard, Letty came in with a 
letter which she said had been brought from Mid- 
branch by a colored man on a horse ; the man had 
said there was no answer, and had gone back to How- 
lett’s, where he belonged. 

The letter was for Mr. Croft and from Miss March. 

346 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Very much surprised at receiving such a missive, 
Lawrence opened the envelope. His letter to Miss 
March had not yet been sent, for the new state of 
affairs had not only very much occupied his mind, 
but it also seemed to render unnecessary any haste in 
the matter, and he had concluded to mail the letter 
the next day. This, therefore, was not in answer to 
anything from him ; and why should she have written? 

It was with a decidedly uneasy sensation that Law- 
rence began to read the letter, Annie watching him 
anxiously as he did so. The letter was a somewhat 
long one, and the purport of it was as follows : The 
writer stated that, having received a most extraor- 
dinary and astounding epistle from old Mrs. Keswick, 
which had been sent by a special messenger, she had 
thought it her duty to write immediately on the sub- 
ject to Mr. Croft, and had detained the man that she 
might send this letter by him. She did not pretend 
to understand the full purport of what Mrs. Keswick 
had written, but it was evident that the old lady be- 
lieved that an engagement of marriage existed between 
herself (Miss March) and Mr. Croft. That that gen- 
tleman had given such information to Mrs. Keswick 
she could hardly suppose, but, if he had, it must have 
been in consequence of a message which, very much to 
her surprise and grief, had been delivered to Mr. Croft 
by Mr. Keswick. In order that this message might be 
understood, Miss March had determined to make a full 
explanation of her line of conduct towards Mr. Croft. 

During the latter part of their pleasant intercourse 
at Midbranch during the past summer, she had reason 
to believe that Mr. Croft’s intentions in regard to her 
were becoming serious, but she had also perceived 
347 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that his impulses, however earnest they might have 
been, were controlled by an extraordinary caution 
and prudence, which, although it sometimes amused 
her, was not in the least degree complimentary to her. 
She could not prevent herself from resenting this some- 
what peculiar action of Mr. Croft, and this resentment 
grew into a desire, which gradually became a very 
strong one, that she might have an opportunity of 
declining a proposal from him. That opportunity 
came while they were both at Mrs. Keswick’s, and she 
had intended that what she said at her last interview 
with Mr. Croft should be considered a definite refusal 
of his suit, but the interview had terminated before 
she had stated her mind quite as plainly as she had 
purposed doing. She had not, however, wished to 
renew the conversation on the subject, and had con- 
cluded to content herself with what she had already 
said, feeling quite sure that her words had been suffi- 
cient to satisfy Mr. Croft that it would be useless to 
make any further proposals. 

When, on the eve of her departure from the house, 
Mr. Keswick had brought her Mr. Croft’s message, she 
was not only amazed, but indignant ; not so much at 
Mr. Croft for sending it as at Mr. Keswick for bring- 
ing it. Miss March was not ashamed to confess that 
she was irritated and incensed to a high degree that a 
gentleman who had held the position towards her that 
Mr. Keswick had held should bring her such a mes- 
sage from another man. She was, therefore, seized 
with a sudden impulse to punish him, and, without in 
the least expecting that he would carry such an an- 
swer, she had given him the one which he had taken 
to Mr. Croft. Having, until the day on which she 
was writing, heard nothing further on the subject, she 
348 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


had supposed that her expectations had been realized. 
But on this day the astonishing letter from Mrs. Kes- 
wick had arrived, and it made her understand that 
not only had her impulsive answer been delivered, 
but that Mr. Croft had informed other persons that 
he had been accepted. She wished, therefore, to lose 
no time in stating to Mr. Croft that what she had said 
to him with her own lips was to be received as her 
final resolve, and that the answer given to Mr. Kes- 
wick was not intended for Mr. Croft’s ears. 

Miss March then went on to say that it might be 
possible that she owed Mr. Croft an apology for the 
somewhat ungracious manner in which she had treated 
him at Mrs. Keswick’s house ; but she assured herself 
that Mr. Croft owed her an apology, not only for the 
manner of his attentions, but for the peculiar publicity 
he had given them. In that case the apologies neu- 
tralized each other. Miss March had no intention of 
answering Mrs. Keswick’s ^letter. Under no circum- 
stances could she have considered, for a moment, its 
absurd suggestions and recommendations ; and it con- 
tained allusions to Mr. Croft and another person 
which, if not founded upon the imagination of Mrs. 
Keswick, certainly concerned nothing with which 
Miss March had anything to do. 

The proud spirit of Lawrence Croft was a good deal 
ruffled when he read this letter, but he made no re- 
mark about it. “ Would you like to read it? ” he said 
to Annie. 

She greatly desired to read it, but there was some- 
thing in her lover’s face, and in the tone in which he 
spoke, which made her suspect that the reading of 
that letter might be, in some degree, humiliating to 
him. She was certain, from the expression of his face 
349 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


as he read it, that the letter contained matter very 
unpleasant to Lawrence, and it might be that it would 
wound him to have another person, especially herself, 
read it ; and so she said : “ I don’t care to read it 
if you will tell me why she wrote to you, and the 
point of what she says.” 

“Thank you,” said Lawrence. And he crumpled 
the letter in his hand as he spoke. “ She wrote,” he 
continued, “in consequence of a letter she has had 
from your aunt.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Annie. “ Did Aunt Keswick 
write to her ? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “and sent it by a special 
messenger. She must have told her all the heinous 
crimes with which she charged you and me, particu- 
larly me ; and this must have been the first intimation 
to Miss March that your cousin had given me the answer 
she made to him ; therefore Miss March writes in haste 
to let me know that she did not intend that that an- 
swer should be given to me, and that she wishes it 
generally understood that I have no more connection 
with her than I have with the Queen of Spain. That 
is the sum and substance of the letter.” 

“ I knew as well as I know anything in the world,” 
said Annie, “that that message Junius brought you 
meant nothing.” And taking the crumpled letter 
from his hand, she threw it on the few embers that 
remained in the fireplace, and as it blazed and 
crumbled into black ashes, she said : “ Now that is 
the end of Roberta March ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Lawrence, emphasizing his remark with 
an encircling arm ; “ so far as we are concerned, that is 
the end of her.” 


350 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


On the next day old Aunt Patsy was buried. Mrs. 
Keswick and Annie attended the ceremonies in the 
cabin, but they did not go to the burial. After a 
time, it might be in a week or two, or it might be in 
a year, the funeral sermon would be preached in the 
church, and they would go to hear that. Aunt Patsy 
never finished her crazy-quilt, several pieces being 
wanted to one corner of it ; but in the few days pre- 
ceding her burial two old women of the congregation, 
with trembling hands and uncertain eyes, sewed in 
these pieces and finished the quilt, in which the body 
of the venerable sister was wrapped, according to her 
well-known wish and desire. It is customary among 
the negroes to keep the remains of their friends a 
very short time after death ; but Aunt Patsy had lived 
so long upon this earth that it was generally conceded 
that her spirit would not object to her body remaining 
above ground until all necessary arrangements should 
be completed, and until all people who had known or 
heard of her had had an opportunity of taking a last 
look at her. As she had been so very well known to 
almost everybody’s grandparents, a good many people 
availed themselves of this privilege. 

After Mrs. Keswick’s return from Aunt Patsy’s cabin, 
351 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

where, according to her custom, she made herself 
very prominent, it was noticeable that she had dropped 
some of the grave reserve in which she had wrapped 
herself during the preceding day. It was impossible 
for her, at least but for a very short time, to act in a 
manner unsuited to her nature ; and reserve and con- 
straint had never been suited to her nature. She, 
therefore, began to speak on general subjects in her 
ordinary free manner to the various persons in her 
house ; but it must not be supposed that she exhibited 
any contrition for the outrageous way in which she 
had spoken to Annie and Lawrence, or gave them any 
reason to suppose that the laceration of their souls on 
that occasion was a matter which, at present, needed 
any consideration whatever from her. An angel, born 
of memory and imagination, might come to her from 
heaven, and so work upon her superstitious feelings 
as to induce her to stop short in her course of reckless 
vengeance ; but she would not, on that account, fall 
upon anybody’s neck, or ask forgiveness for anything 
she had done to anybody. She did not accuse herself, 
nor repent ; she only stopped. “ After this,” she said, 
“ you all can do as you please. I have no further con- 
cern with your affairs. Only don’t talk to me about 
them.” 

She told Lawrence, in a manner that would seem to 
indicate a moderate but courteous interest in his 
welfare, that he must not think of leaving her house 
until his ankle had fully recovered its strength j and 
she even went so far as to suggest the use of a patent 
lotion which she had seen at the store at Howlett’s. 
She resumed her former intercourse with Annie, but 
it seemed impossible for her to entirely forget the 
352 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


deception which that young lady had practised upon 
her. The only indication, however, of this resent- 
ment was the appellation which she now bestowed 
upon her niece. In speaking of her to Lawrence or 
any of the household, she invariably called her “ the 
late Mrs. Null ” ; and this title so pleased the old lady 
that she soon began to use it in addressing her niece. 
Annie occasionally remonstrated in a manner which 
seemed half playful, but was in fact quite earnest 5 but 
her aunt paid no manner of attention to her words, 
and continued to please herself by this half-sarcastic 
method of alluding to her niece’s fictitious matri- 
monial state. 

Letty and the other servants were at first much 
astonished by the new title given to Miss Annie, and 
the only way in which they could explain it was by 
supposing that Mr. Null had gone off somewhere and 
died; and although they could not understand why 
Miss Annie should show so little grief in the matter, 
and why she had not put on mourning, they imagined 
that these were customs which she had learned in the 
North. 

Lawrence advised Annie to pay no attention to this 
whim of her aunt. u It don’t hurt either of us,” he 
said, “ and we ought to be very glad that she has let 
us off so easily. But there is one thing I think you 
ought to do : you should write to your cousin Junius 
and tell him of our engagement; but I would not 
refer at all to the other matter ; you are not supposed 
to have anything to do with it, and Miss March can 
tell him as much about it as she chooses. Mr. Keswick 
wrote me that he was going to Midbranch, and that 
he would communicate with me while there ; but as I 
353 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

• 

have not since heard from him, I presume he is still in 
Washington.” 

A letter was, therefore, written by Annie, and 
addressed to Junius in Washington, and Lawrence 
drove her to the railroad station in the spring-wagon, 
where it was posted. The family mail came bi-weekly 
to Howlett’s, as the post-office at the railroad-station 
was entirely too distant for convenience ; and as Satur- 
day approached it was evident, from Mrs. Keswick’s 
occasional remarks and questions, that she expected a 
letter. It was quite natural for Lawrence and Annie 
to surmise that this letter was expected from Miss 
March, for Mrs. Keswick had not heard of any re- 
joinder having been made to her epistle to that lady. 
When, late on Saturday afternoon, the boy Plez re- 
turned from Howlett’s, Mrs. Keswick eagerly took 
from him the well-worn letter -bag, and looked over 
its contents. There was a letter for her, and from 
Midbranch ; but the address was written by Junius, 
not by Miss March. There was another in the same 
handwriting for Annie. As the old lady looked at 
the address on her letter, and then on its postmark, 
she was evidently disappointed and displeased ; but 
she said nothing, and went away with it to her room. 

Annie’s letter was in answer to the one she had sent 
to Washington, which had been promptly forwarded 
to Midbranch, where Junius had been for some days. 
It began by expressing much surprise at the informa- 
tion his cousin had given him in regard to her assump- 
tion of a married title ; and although she had assured 
him she had very good reasons, he could not admit 
that it was right and proper for her to deceive his aunt 
and himself in this way. If it were indeed necessary 
354 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that other persons should suppose that she were a 
married woman, her nearest relatives, at least, should 
have been told the truth. 

At this passage, Annie, who was reading the letter 
aloud, and Lawrence, who was listening, both laughed. 
But they made no remarks, and the reading proceeded. 

Junius next alluded to the news of his cousin’s en- 
gagement to Mr. Croft. His guarded remarks on this 
subject showed the kindness of his heart. He did not 
allude to the suddenness of the engagement, nor to 
the very peculiar events that had so recently preceded 
it ; but, reading between the lines, both Annie and 
Lawrence thought that the writer had probably given 
these points a good deal of consideration. In a gen- 
eral way, however, it was impossible for him to see any 
objection to such a match for his cousin, and this was 
the impression he endeavored to give, in a very kindly 
way, in his congratulations. But, even here, there 
seemed to be indications of a hope, on the part of 
the writer, that Mr. Croft would not see fit to make 
another short tack in his course of love. 

Like the polite gentleman he was, Mr. Keswick 
allowed his own affairs to come in at the end of the 
letter. Here he informed his cousin that his engage- 
ment with Miss March had been renewed, and that 
they were to be married shortly after Christmas. As 
it must have been very plain to those who were pres- 
ent when Miss March left his aunt’s house that she 
left in anger with him, he felt impelled to say that he 
had explained to her the course of action to which she 
had taken exception, and although she had not ad- 
mitted that that course had been a justifiable one, she 
had forgiven him. He wished also to say at this point 
355 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

that he himself was not at all proud of what he had 
done. 

“That was intended for me/’ interrupted Law- 
rence. 

“Well, if you understand it, it is all right,” said 
Annie. 

Junius went on to say that the renewal of his en- 
gagement was due, in great part, to Miss March’s visit 
to his aunt, and to a letter she had received from her. 
A few days of intercourse with Mrs. Keswick, whom 
she had never before seen, and the tenor and purpose 
of that letter, had persuaded Miss March that his aunt 
was a person whose mind had passed into a condition 
when its opposition or its action ought not to be con- 
sidered by persons who were intent upon their own 
welfare. His own arrival at Midbranch at this junc- 
ture had resulted in the happy renewal of their 
engagement. 

“ I don’t know Junius half as well as I wish I did,” 
said Annie, as she finished the letter, “ but I am very 
sure indeed that he will make a good husband, and I 
am glad he has got Roberta March— as he wants her.” 

“ Did you emphasize 1 he ’ ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ I will emphasize it, if you would like to hear me 
do it,” said she. 

“It’s very queer,” remarked Annie, after a little 
pause, “that I should have been so anxious to pre- 
serve poor Junius from your clutches, and that, after 
all I did to save him, I should fall into those clutches 
myself.” 

Whereupon Lawrence, much to her delight, told 
her the story of the anti-detective. 

Mrs. Keswick sat down in her room and read her 
356 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


letter. She had no intention of abandoning her reso- 
lution to let things go as they would, and therefore 
did not expect to follow up, with further words or 
actions, anything she had written in her letter to 
Roberta March. But she had had a very strong curi- 
osity to know what that lady would say in answer to 
said letter, and she was therefore disappointed and 
displeased that the missive she had received was from 
her nephew, and not from Miss March. She did not 
wish to have a letter from Junius. She knew, or 
rather very much feared, that it would contain news 
which would be bad news to her, and although she 
was sure that such news would come to her sooner or 
later, she was very much averse to receiving it. 

His letter to her merely touched upon the points of 
Mrs. Hull, and his cousin’s engagement to Mr. Croft ; 
but it was almost entirely filled with the announce- 
ment, and most earnest defence, of his own engage- 
ment to Roberta March. He said a great deal upon 
this subject, and he said it well. But it is doubtful 
if his fervid, and often affectionate, expressions made 
much impression upon his aunt. Nothing could make 
the old lady like this engagement, but she had made 
up her mind that he might do as he pleased, and it 
didn’t matter what he said about it ; he had done it, 
and there was an end of it. 

But there was one thing that did matter : that un- 
principled and iniquitous old man Brandon had had 
his own way at last, and she and her way had been 
set aside. This was the last of a series of injuries to 
her and her family with which she charged Mr. Bran- 
don and his family ; but it was the crowning wrong. 
The injury itself she did not so much deplore as that 
357 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


the injurer would profit by it. Arrested in her course 
of raging passion by a sudden flood of warm and irre- 
sistible emotion, she had resigned, as impetuously as 
she had taken them up, her purposes of vengeance, 
and, consequently, her plans for her nephew and niece. 
But she was a keen-minded as well as passionate 
old woman, and when she had considered the altered 
state of affairs, she was able to see in it advantages as 
well as disappointment and defeat. From what she 
had learned of Lawrence Croft’s circumstances and po- 
sition,— and she had made a good many inquiries on 
this subject of Roberta March, —he was certainly a good 
match for Annie ; and although she hated to have 
anything to do with Midbranch, it could not be a bad 
thing for Junius to be master of that large estate, and 
that Mr. Brandon had repeatedly declared he would 
be if he married Roberta. Thus, in the midst of these 
reverses, there was something to comfort her and 
reconcile her to them. But there was no balm for 
the wound caused by Mr. Brandon’s success and her 
failure. 

With the letter of Junius open in her hand, she sat, 
for a long time, in bitter meditation. At length a 
light gradually spread itself over her gloomy coun- 
tenance ; her eyes sparkled ; she sat np straight in 
her chair, and a broad smile changed the course of the 
wrinkles on her cheeks. She rose to her feet ; she 
gave her head a quick jerk of affirmation 5 she clapped 
one hand upon the other ; and she said aloud : “ I will 
bless, not curse ! ” 

And with that she went happy to bed. 


358 


CHAPTER XXIX 


On the following Monday, Lawrence announced that 
his ankle was now quite well enough for him to go to 
New York, where his affairs required his presence. 
Neither he nor the late Mrs. Null regarded this part- 
ing with any satisfaction, but their very natural re- 
grets at the necessary termination of these happy 
autumn days were a good deal tempered by the fact 
that Lawrence intended to return in a few weeks, and 
that then the final arrangements would be made for 
their marriage. It was not easy to decide what these 
arrangements would be, for, in spite of the many wrong- 
nesses of the old lady’s head and heart, Annie had 
conceived a good deal of affection for her aunt, and 
felt a strong disinclination to abandon her to her 
lonely life, which would be more lonely than before, 
now that Junius was to be married. On the other 
hand, Lawrence, although he had discovered some 
estimable points in the very peculiar character of 
Mrs. Keswick, had no intention of living in the same 
house with her. This whole matter, therefore, was 
left in abeyance until the lovers should meet again, 
some time in December. 

Lawrence and Annie had desired very much that 
Junius should visit them before Mr. Croft’s departure 
359 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

for the North, for they both had a high esteem for 
him, and both felt a desire that he should be as well 
satisfied with their matrimonial project as they were 
with his. But they need not have expected him. 
Junius had conceived a dislike for Mr. Croft, which 
was based in great part upon disapprobation of what 
he himself had done in connection with that gentle- 
man $ and this manner of dislike is not easily set aside. 
The time would come when he would take Lawrence 
Croft and Annie by the hand, and honestly congratu- 
late them, but for that time they must wait. 

Lawrence departed in the afternoon ; and the next 
day Mrs. Keswick set about that general renovation 
and rearrangement of her establishment which many 
good housewives consider necessary at certain epochs, 
such as the departure of guests, the coming in of spring, 
or the advent of winter. These arrangements occupied 
two days, and on the evening that they were finished 
to her satisfaction, the old lady informed her niece 
that early the next morning she was going to start 
for Midbranch, and that it was possible, nay, quite 
probable, that she would stay there over a night. “ I 
might go and come back the same day,” she said, “ but 
thirty miles a day is too much for Billy 5 and besides, 
I am not sure I could get through what I have to do 
if I do not stay over. I would take you with me, but 
this is not to be a mere visit ; I have important things 
to attend to, and you would be in the way. You got 
along so well without me when you first came here 
that I have no doubt you will do very well for one 
night. I shall drive myself, and take Plez along with 
me, and leave Uncle Isham and Letty to take care of 
you.” 


360 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Under ordinary circumstances Annie would have 
been delighted to go to Midbranch, a place she had 
never seen, and of which she had heard so much ; but 
she had no present desire to see Roberta March, and 
said so, further remarking that she was very willing 
to stay by herself for a night. She hoped much that 
her aunt would proceed with the conversation, and 
tell her why she had determined upon such an ex- 
traordinary thing as a visit to Midbranch, where she 
knew the old lady had not been for many, many years. 
But Mrs. Keswick had nothing further to say upon 
this subject, and began to talk of other matters. 

After a very early breakfast, next morning, Mrs. 
Keswick set out upon her journey, driving the sorrel 
horse with much steadiness, intermingled with severity 
whenever he allowed himself to drop out of his usual 
jogging pace. Plez sat in the back part of the spring- 
wagon, and whenever the old lady saw an unusually 
large stone lying in the track of the road, she would 
stop, and make him get out and throw it to one 
side. 

“I believe,” she said, on one of these occasions, 
“ that a thousand men in buggies might pass along 
this road thrice a day for a year, and never think of 
stopping to throw that rock out of the way of people’s 
wheels. They would steer around it every time, or 
bump over it ; but such a thing as moving it would 
never enter their heads.” 

The morning was somewhat cool, but fine, and the 
smile which occasionally flitted over the corrugated 
countenance of Mrs. Keswick seemed to indicate that 
she was in a pleasant state of mind, which might have 
been occasioned by the fine weather and the good con- 
361 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


dition of the roads, or by cheerful anticipations con- 
nected with her visit. 

It was not very long after noonday that, with a 
stifled remark of disapprobation upon her lips, she 
drew up at the foot of the broad flight of steps by 
which one crossed the fence into the Midbranch yard. 
<3riving Billy into the charge of Plez, with directions 
to take him round to the stables and tell somebody to 
put him up and feed him, she mounted the steps, and 
stopped for a minute or so on the broad platform at 
the top, looking about her as she stood. Everything 
—the house, the yard, the row of elms along the fence, 
the wide-spreading fields, and the farm buildings and 
cabins, some of which she could see around the end of 
the house— was all on a scale so much larger and more 
imposing than those of her own little estate that, al- 
though nothing had changed for the better since the 
days when she was familiar with Midbranch, she was 
struck with the general superiority of the Brandon 
possessions to her own. Her eyes twinkled, and she 
smiled; but there did not appear to be anything 
envious about her. 

She presented a rather remarkable figure as she 
stood in this conspicuous position. Annie had insisted, 
when she was helping her aunt to array herself for 
the journey, that she should wear a bonnet which for 
many years had been her head-gear on Sundays and 
important occasions. But to this the old lady positively 
objected. She was not going on a mere visit of state 
or ceremony ; her visit at Midbranch would require 
her whole attention, and she did not wish to distract 
her mind by wondering whether her bonnet was 
straight on her head or not, and she was so unaccus- 
tomed to the feel of it that she would never know if 
362 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


it got turned hind part foremost. She could not be 
at her ease, nor say freely what she wished to say, if 
she were dressed in clothes to which she was not accus- 
tomed. She was perfectly accustomed to her sun- 
bonnet, and she intended to wear that. Of course she 
carried her purple umbrella, and she wore a plain 
calico dress, blue spotted with white, which was very 
narrow and short in the skirt, barely touching the 
tops of her shoes, the stoutest and most serviceable 
that could be procured in the store at Howlett’s. She 
covered her shoulders with a small red shawl, which, 
much to Annie’s surprise, she fastened with a large 
and somewhat tarnished silver brooch, an ornament 
her niece had never before seen. Attired thus, she 
certainly would have attracted attention, had there 
been any one there to see ; but the yard was empty, 
and the house door closed. She descended the steps, 
crossed the yard with what might be termed a buoyant 
gait, and, mounting the porch, knocked on the door 
with the handle of her umbrella. After some delay, 
a colored woman appeared, and as soon as the door 
was opened, Mrs. Keswick walked in. 

“ Where is your master?” said she, forgetting all 
about the Emancipation Act. 

“ Mahs’ Robert is in the lib’ery,” said the woman. 

“And where are Miss Roberta March and Master 
Junius Keswick ! ” 

“ Miss Rob went Korf day ’fore yestiddy,” was the 
answer, “ an’ Mahs’ Junius done gone ’long to wait on 
her. Who shall I tell Mahs’ Robert is come? ” 

“ There is no need to tell him who I am,” said Mrs. 
Keswick. “Just take me in to him. That’s all you 
have to do.” 

A good deal doubtful of the propriety of this pro- 
363 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


ceeding, but more doubtful of the propriety of oppos- 
ing the wishes of such a determined-looking visitor, 
the woman stepped to the back part of the hall, and 
opened the door. The moment she did so, Mrs. Kes- 
wick entered, and closed the door behind her. 

Mr. Brandon was seated in an arm-chair by a table, 
and not very far from a wood fire of a size suited to 
the season. His slippered feet were on a cushioned 
stool 5 his eye-glasses were carefully adjusted on the 
capacious bridge of his nose ; and, intent upon a news- 
paper which had arrived by that morning 7 s mail, he 
presented the appearance of a very well satisfied old 
gentleman in very comfortable circumstances. But 
when he turned his head and saw the widow Kes- 
wick close the door behind her, every idea of satisfac- 
tion or comfort seemed to vanish from his mind. He 
dropped the paper ; he rose to his feet ; he took off 
his eyeglasses ; he turned somewhat red in the face ; 
and he ejaculated : “ What, madam ! So it is you, 
Mrs. Keswick ? 77 

The old lady did not immediately answer. Her 
head dropped a little on one side, a broad smile be- 
wrinkled the lower part of her well-worn visage, and, 
with her eyes half closed behind her heavy spectacles, 
she held out both her hands, the purple umbrella in 
one of them, and exclaimed in a voice of happy fervor : 
“ Robert ! I am yours ! 77 

Mr. Brandon, recovered from his first surprise, had 
made a step forward to go round the table and greet 
his visitor ; but at these words he stopped as if he had 
been shot. Perception, understanding, and even ani- 
mation, seemed to have left him as he vacantly stared 
at the elderly female with purple sunbonnet and urn- 
364 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


brella, blue calico gown, red shawl, and coarse boots, 
who held out her arms towards him, and who gazed 
upon him with an air of tender, though decrepit, 
fondness. 

“ Don’t you understand me, Robert? ” she continued. 
a Don’t you remember the day, many a good long year 
ago, it is true, when we walked together down there 
by the branch, and you asked me to be yours ? I re- 
fused you, Robert, and although you went down on 
your knees in the damp grass and besought me to 
give you my heart, I would not do it. But I did not 
know you then as I know you now, Robert, and the 
words of true love which you spoke to me that morn- 
ing come to me now with a sweetness which I was too 
young and trifling to notice then. That heart is yours 
now, Robert. I am yours.” And with these words 
she made a step forward. 

At this demonstration Mr. Brandon appeared sud- 
denly to recover his consciousness, and he precipitately 
made two steps backward, just missing tumbling over 
his footstool into the fireplace. 

“ Madam ! ” he exclaimed, “ what are you talking 
about?” 

“ Of the days of our courtship and your love, Rob- 
ert,” she said. “ My love did not come then, but it 
is here now — here now,” she repeated, putting the 
hand with the umbrella in it on her breast. 

“ Madam,” exclaimed the old gentleman, “ you must 
be raving crazy ! Those things to which you allude 
happened nearly half a century ago ; and since that 
you have been married and settled, and—” 

“ Robert,” interrupted the widow Keswick, “you 
are mistaken. It is not quite forty-five years since 
365 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


that morning, and why should hearts like ours allow 
the passage of time, or the mere circumstance of what 
might be called an outside marriage, but now extinct, 
to come between them? There is many a spring, 
Robert, which does not show when a man first begins 
to dig, but it will bubble up in time. And, Robert, 
it bubbles now.” And with her head bent a little 
downward, although her eyes were still fixed upon 
him, she made another step in his direction. 

Mr. Brandon now backed himself flat against some 
book-shelves in his rear. The perspiration began to 
roll from his face, and his whole form trembled. 
u Mrs. Keswick ! Madam ! ” he exclaimed , 11 you will 
drive me mad ! ” 

The old lady dropped the end of her umbrella on 
the floor, rested her two hands on the head of it, set- 
tled herself into an easy position to speak, and, with 
her head thrown back, fixed a steady gaze upon the 
trembling old gentleman. “ Robert,” she said, “do 
not try to crush emotions which always were a credit 
to you, although in those days gone by I didn’t tell 
you so. Your hair was black then, Robert, and you 
looked taller, for you hadn’t a stoop ; and your face 
was very smooth, and so was mine ; and I remember I 
had on a white dress with a broad ribbon around the 
waist ; and neither of us wore specs. What you said 
to me was very fresh and sweet, Robert, and it all 
comes to me now as it never came before. You have 
never loved another, Robert, and you don’t know how 
happy it makes me to think that, and to know that I 
can come to you and find you the same true and con- 
stant lover that you were when, forty-five years ago, 
you went down on your knees to me by the branch. 

366 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


We can’t stifle those feelings of bygone days which 
well up in our bosoms, Robert. After all these years 
I have learned what a prize your true love is, and I 
return it. I am yours.” 

At this Mr. Brandon opened his mouth with a spas- 
modic gasp, but no word came from him. He looked 
to the right and left, and then made a lunge to one 
side, as if he would run around the old lady and gain 
the door. But Mrs. Keswick was too quick for him. 
With two sudden springs she reached the door and 
put her back against it. 

“Don’t leave me, Robert,” she said, “I have not 
told you all. Don’t you remember this breastpin?” 
unfastening the large silver brooch from her shawl and 
holding it out to him. “You gave it to me, Robert ; 
there were almost tears of joy in your eyes on the first 
day I wore it, although I was careful to let you know 
it meant nothing. Where are those tears to-day, 
Robert? It means something now. I have kept it 
all these years, although in the lifetime of Mr. Kes- 
wick it was never cleaned ; and I wore it to-day, 
Robert, that your eyes might rest upon it once again, 
and that you might speak to me the words you spoke 
to me the day after I let you pin it on my white 
neckerchief. You waited then, Robert, a whole day 
before you spoke ; but you needn’t wait now. Let 
your heart speak out, dear Robert.” 

But dear Robert appeared to have no power to 
speak, on this or any other subject. He was half sit- 
ting, half leaning on the corner of a table which stood 
by a window, out of which he gave sudden agonized 
and longing glances, as if, had he strength enough, he 
would raise the sash and leap out. 

367 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


The old lady, however, had speech enough for two. 
“Robert,” she exclaimed, “how happy may we be, 
yet ! If you wish to give up to a younger couple 
this spacious mansion, these fine grounds and noble 
elms, and come to my humble home, I shall only say 
to you, 4 Robert, come ! 7 I shall be alone there, 
Robert, and shall welcome you with joy. I have no- 
body now to give anything to. The late Mrs. Null, 
by which I mean my niece, will marry a man who, if 
reports don’t lie, is rich enough to make her want 
nothing that I have ; and as for Junius, he is to have 
your property, as we all know. So all I have is yours, 
if you choose to come to me, Robert. But if you 
would rather live here, I will come to you, and the 
young people can board with us until your decease ; 
after that I’ll board with them. And I’m not sure, 
Robert, but I like the plan of coming here best. 
There are lots of improvements we could make on this 
place, with you to furnish the money, and me to ad- 
vise and direct. The first thing I’d do would be to 
have down those abominable steps over the front fence, 
and put a decent gate in its place ; and then we would 
have a gravelled walk across the yard to the porch, 
wide enough for you and me, Robert, to walk together 
arm in arm when we would go out to look over the 
plantation, or stroll down to that spot on the branch, 
Robert, where the first plightings of our troth began.” 

The words of tender reminiscence, and of fond, 
though rather late devotion, with which Mrs. Kes- 
wick had stabbed and gashed the soul of the poor old 
gentleman had at first deranged his senses, and then 
driven him into a state of abject despair ; but the prac- 
tical remarks which succeeded seemed to have a more 


368 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


direful effect upon him. The idea of the being with 
the sunbonnet and the umbrella entering into his life 
at Midbranch, tearing down the broad steps which 
his honored father had built, cutting a gravelled path 
across the green turf which had been the pride of 
generations, and doing no man could say what else 
of advice and direction, seemed to strike a chill of 
terror into his very bones. 

The quick perception of Mrs. Keswick told her that 
it was time to terminate the interview. “ I will not 
say anything more to you now, Robert,” she said. 
“ Of course you have been surprised at my coming to 
you to-day and accepting your offer of marriage, and 
you must have time to quiet your mind and think it 
over. I don’t doubt your affection, Robert, and I 
don’t want to hurry you. I am going to stay here 
to-night, so that we can have plenty of time to settle 
everything comfortably. I’ll go now and get one of 
the servants to show me to a room where I can take 
off my things. I’ll see you again at dinner.” 

And, with a smile of antiquated coyness, she left the 
room. 


369 


CHAPTER XXX 


Me. Brandon was not a weak man, nor one very sus- 
ceptible to outside influences $ but, in the whole course 
of his life, nothing so extraordinarily nerve-stirring 
had occurred to him as this visit of old Mrs. Keswick 
endeavoring to appear in the character of the young 
creature he had wooed some forty-five years before. 
For a long time Mrs. Keswick had been the enemy of 
himself and his family, and many a bitter onslaught 
she had made upon him, both by letter and by word 
of mouth. These he had borne with the utmost bra- 
very and coolness, and there were times when they 
even afforded him entertainment. But this most 
astounding attack was something against which no 
man could have been prepared ; and Mr. Brandon, 
suddenly pounced upon in the midst of his com- 
fortable bachelordom by a malevolent sorceress, and 
hurled back to the days of his youth, was shown himself 
kneeling, not at the feet of a fair young girl, but before 
a horrible old woman. 

This amazing and startling state of affairs was 
too much for him immediately to comprehend. It 
stunned and bewildered him. Such, indeed, was the 
effect upon him that the first act of his mind, when 
he was left alone and it began to act, was to ask of 
370 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


itself if there were really any grounds upon which 
Mrs. Keswick could, with any reason, take up her 
position? The absolute absurdity of her position, 
however, became more and more evident as Mr. 
Brandon’s mind began to straighten itself and stand 
up. And now he grew angry. Anger was a passion 
with which he was not at all unfamiliar, and the ex- 
ercise of it seemed to do him good. When he had 
walked up and down his library for a quarter of an 
hour he felt almost like his natural self ; and with 
many nods of his head and shakes of his fist, he de- 
clared that the old woman was crazy, and that he 
would bundle her home just as soon as he could. 

By dinner-time he had cooled down a good deal, 
and he resolved to treat her with the respect due to 
her age and former condition of sanity, but to take 
care that she should not again be alone with him, and 
to arrange that she should return to her home that 
day. 

Mrs. Keswick came to the table with a smiling face, 
and wearing a close-fitting white cap, which looked 
like a portion of her night-gear, tied under her chin 
with broad, stiff strings. In this she appeared to her 
host far more hideous than when wearing her sun- 
bonnet. Mr. Brandon had arranged that two servants 
should wait upon the table, so that one of them should 
always be in the room ; but in his supposition that the 
presence of a third person would have any effect upon 
the expression of Mrs. Keswick’s fond regard he was 
mistaken. The meal had scarcely begun when she 
looked around the room with wide-open eyes, and 
exclaimed : “ Robert, if we should conclude to remain 
here, I think we will have this room repapered with 
371 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


some light-colored paper. I like a light dining-room. 
This is entirely too dark.” 

The two servants, one of whom was our old friend 
Peggy, actually stopped short in their duties at this 
remark ; and as for Mr. Brandon, his appetite imme- 
diately left him, to return no more during that meal. 

He was obliged to make some answer to this speech, 
and so he briefly remarked that he had no desire to 
alter the appearance of his dining-room, and then 
hastened to change the conversation by making some 
inquiries about that interesting young woman, her 
niece, who, he had been informed, was not a married 
lady, as he had supposed her to be. 

At this intelligence Peggy dropped two spoons and 
a fork ; she had never heard it before. 

“The late Mrs. Null,” said Mrs. Keswick, “is a 
young woman who likes to cut her clothes after her 
own patterns. They may be becoming to her when 
they are made up, or they may not be. But I am 
inclined to think she has got a pretty good head on 
her shoulders, and perhaps she knows what suits her 
as well as any of us. I can’t say it was easy to forgive 
the trick she played on me, her own aunt, and just 
the same, in fact, as her mother. But, Robert,”— and 
as she said this the old lady laid down her knife and 
fork and looked tenderly at Mr. Brandon— “I have 
determined to forgive everybody and to overlook 
everything, and I do this as much for your sake, dear 
Robert, as for my own. It wouldn’t do for a couple 
of our age to be keeping up grudges against the young 
people for their ways of getting out of marriages or 
getting into them. We will have my niece and her 
husband here sometimes, won’t we, Robert?” 

372 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


Mr. Brandon straightened himself and remarked: 
“Mr. Croft, whom I have heard your niece is to 
marry, will be quite welcome here, with his wife.” 
Then, putting his napkin on the table, and pushing 
back his chair, he said : “ Now, madam, you must ex- 
cuse me, for I have orders to give to some of my 
people which I had forgotten until this moment. But 
do not let me interfere with your dinner. Pray con- 
tinue your meal.” 

Never before had Mr. Brandon been known to leave 
his dinner until he had finished it, and he was not at 
all accustomed to give such a poor reason for his 
actions as the one he gave now ; but it was simply im- 
possible for him to sit any longer at table and have 
that old woman talk in that shocking manner before 
the servants. 

“ Robert,” cried Mrs. Keswick, as he left the room, 
“ I ? ll save some dessert for you, and we’ll eat it to- 
gether.” 

Mr. Brandon’s first impulse, when he found himself 
out of the dining-room, was to mount his horse and 
ride away ; but there was no place to which he wished 
to ride, and he was a man who was very loath to 
leave the comforts of his home. “ No,” he said. “ She 
must go, and not I.” And then he went into his parlor, 
and strode up and down. As soon as Mrs. Keswick 
had finished her dinner, he would see her there and 
speak his mind to her. He had determined that he 
would not again be alone with her, but since the 
presence of others was no restraint whatever upon 
her, it had become absolutely necessary that he should 
speak with her alone. 

It was not long before the widow Keswick, with 
373 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


a brisk, blithe step, entered the parlor. “ I couldn’t 
eat without you, Robert,” she cried, “and so I really 
haven’t half finished my dinner. Did you have to 
come in here to speak to your people ? ” 

Mr. Brandon stepped to the door and closed it. 
“Madam,” he said, “it will be impossible for me, in 
the absence of my niece, to entertain you here to- 
night, and so it would be prudent for you to start for 
home as soon as possible, as the days are short. It 
would be too much of a journey for your horse to go 
back again to-day, and your vehicle is an open one ; 
therefore I have ordered my carriage to be prepared, 
and you may trust my driver to take you safely home, 
even if it should be dark before you get there. If 
you desire it, there is a young maid-servant here who 
will go with you.” 

“Robert,” said Mrs. Keswick, approaching the old 
gentleman and gazing fondly upward at him, “you 
are so good and thoughtful and sweet. But you need 
not put yourself to all that trouble for me. I shall 
stay here to-night, and in your house, dear Robert, I 
can take care of myself a great deal better than any 
lady could take care of me.” 

“ Madam,” exclaimed Mr. Brandon, “ I want you to 
stop calling me by my first name ! You have no right 
to do so, and I won’t stand it.” 

“ Robert,” said the old lady, looking at him with an 
air of tender upbraiding, “ you forget that I am yours, 
now and forever.” 

Never since he had arrived at man’s estate, and 
probably not before, had Mr. Brandon spoken in im- 
proper language to a lady, but now it was all he could 
do to restrain himself from the ejaculation of an oath $ 
374 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


but he did restrain himself, and only exclaimed : 
“ Confound it, madam, I cannot stand this ! Why do 
you come here, to drive me crazy with your senseless 
ravings?” 

“ Robert,” said Mrs. Keswick, very composedly, “ I 
do not wonder that my coming to you and accepting 
the proposals which you once so heartily made to me, 
and from which you have never gone back, should 
work a good deal upon your feelings. It is quite 
natural, and I expected it. Therefore don’t hesitate 
about speaking out your mind ; I shall not be offended. 
So that we belong to each other for the rest of our 
days, I don’t mind what you say now, when it is all 
new and unexpected to you. You and I have had 
many a difference of opinion, Robert, and your plans 
were not my plans. But things have turned out as 
you wished, and you have what you have always 
wanted ; and with the other good things, Robert, you 
can take me.” And, as she finished speaking, she held 
out both hands to her companion. 

With a stamp of his foot and a kick at a chair 
which stood in his way, Mr. Brandon precipitately 
left the room, and slammed the door after him ; and 
if Peggy had not nimbly sprung to one side, he would 
have stumbled over her, and have had a very bad fall 
for a man of his age. 

It was not ten minutes after this that, looking 
out of a window, Mrs. Keswick saw a saddled horse 
brought into the back yard. She hastened into the 
hall, and found Peggy. “Run to Mr. Brandon,” she 
said, “ and bid him good-by for me. I am going up- 
stairs to get ready to go home, and haven’t time to 
speak to him myself before he starts on his ride.” 

375 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


At the receipt of this message the heart of Mr. 
Brandon gave a bound which actually helped him to 
get into the saddle ; but he did not hesitate in his 
purpose of instant departure. If he stayed but for a 
moment, she might come out to him and change her 
mind ; so he put spurs to his horse and galloped away, 
merely stopping long enough, as he passed the stables, 
to give orders that the carriage be prepared for Mrs. 
Keswick, and taken round to the front. 

As he rode through the cool air of that fine Novem- 
ber afternoon, the spirits of Mr. Brandon rose. He 
felt a serene satisfaction in assuring himself that 
although he had been very angry indeed with Mrs. 
Keswick, on account of her most unheard-of and out- 
rageous conduct, yet he had not allowed his indigna- 
tion to burst out against her in any way of which he 
would afterwards be ashamed. Some hasty words had 
escaped him, but they were of no importance, and, 
under the circumstances, no one could have avoided 
speaking them. But when he had addressed her at 
any length he had spoken dispassionately and prac- 
tically, and she, being at bottom a practical woman, 
had seen the sense of his advice, and had gone home 
comfortably in his carriage. Whether she took her 
insane fancies home with her or dropped them on 
the road, it mattered very little to him, so that he 
never saw her again ; and he did not intend to see her 
again. If she came again to his house, he would 
leave it and not return until she had gone ; but he had 
no reason to suppose that he would be forced into any 
such exceedingly disagreeable action as this. He did 
not believe she would ever come back. For, unless 
she were really crazy,— and in that case she ought to 
376 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


be put in the lunatic asylum,— she could not keep up, 
for any length of time, the extraordinary and out- 
rageous delusion that he would be willing to renew 
the feelings that he had entertained for her in her 
youth. 

Mr. Brandon rode until nearly dark, for it took a 
good while to free his mind from the effects of the 
excitements and torments of that day ; but when he 
entered the house and took his seat in his library 
chair by the fire, he had almost regained his usual 
composed and well-satisfied frame of mind. 

Then, through the quietly opened door, came Mrs. 
Keswick, and stealthily stepping towards him in the 
fitful light of the blazing logs, she put her hand on his 
arm and said : u Dear Robert, how glad I am to see 
you back ! ” 

The next morning, about ten o’clock, Mrs. Keswick 
sent her eighteenth or twentieth message to Mr. Bran- 
don, who had shut himself up in his room since a lit- 
tle before supper- time on the previous evening. The 
message was sent by Peggy, and she was instructed to 
shout it outside of her master’s door until he took 
notice of it. Its purport was that it was necessary 
that Mrs. Keswick should go home to-day, and that 
her horse was harnessed and she was now ready to go, 
but that she could not think of leaving until she had 
seen Mr. Brandon again. She would therefore wait 
until he was ready to come down. 

Mr. Brandon looked out of the window and saw the 
spring- wagon at the outside of the broad stile, with 
Plez standing at the sorrel’s head. He remembered 
that the venerable demon had said, at the first, that 
she intended to stay but one night, and he could but 
377 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


believe that she was now really going. Knowing her 
as he did, however, he was very well aware that if she 
had said she would not leave until she had seen him, 
she would stay in his house for a year unless he sooner 
went down to her ; therefore he opened his door and 
slowly and feebly descended the stairs. 

“ My dear, dear Robert ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Keswick, 
totally regardless of the fact that Peggy was standing 
at the front door with her valise in her hand, and that 
there was another servant in the hall, “ how pale and 
haggard and worn you look ! You must be quite 
unwell, and I don’t know but that I ought to stay 
here and take care of you.” 

At these words a look of agony passed over the old 
man’s face, but he said nothing. 

u But I am afraid I cannot stay any longer this 
time,” continued the widow Keswick, “ for my niece 
would not know what had become of me, and there 
are things at home that I must attend to. But I will 
come again. Don’t think I intend to desert you, dear 
Robert. You shall see me soon again. But while I 
am gone,” she said, turning to the two servants, “ I 
want you maids to take good care of your master. 
You must do it for his sake, for he has always been 
kind to you ; but I also want you to do it for my sake. 
Don’t you forget that. And now, dear Robert, good- 
by.” As she spoke she extended her hand towards 
the old gentleman. 

Without a word, but with a good deal of apparent 
reluctance, he took the long, bony hand in his, and 
probably would have instantly dropped it again, had 
not Mrs. Keswick given him a most hearty clutch 
and a vigorous and long-continued shake. 

378 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ It is hard, dear Robert,” she said, “ for us to part 
with nothing but a hand-shake, but there are people 
about, and this will have to do.” And then, after 
urging him to take good care of his health, so valuable 
to them both, and assuring him that he would soon see 
her again, she gave his hand a final shake, and left 
him. Accompanied by Peggy, she went out to the 
spring- wagon and clambered into it. It almost sur- 
passes belief that Mr. Brandon, a Virginia gentleman 
of the old school, should have stood in his hall and 
have seen an old lady leave his house and get into a 
vehicle without accompanying and assisting her ; but 
such was the case on this occasion. He seemed to have 
forgotten his traditions and to have lost his impulses. 
He simply stood where the widow Keswick had left 
him, and gazed at her. 

When she was seated and ready to start, the old 
lady turned towards him, called out to him in a cheery 
voice, “ Good-by, Robert ! ” and kissed her hand to 
him. 

Mrs. Keswick slowly drove away, and Mr. Brandon 
stood at his hall door gazing after her until she was 
entirely out of sight. Then he ejaculated: “The 
deviPs daughter ! ” and went into his library. 

“ I wonders,” said Peggy, when she returned to the 
kitchen, “how you-all’s gwine to like habin’ dat ole 
Miss Keswick libin’ h’yar as you-alPs mistiss ? ” 

“Who’s gwine to hab her*?” growled Aunt Judy. 

“ You-all is,” sturdily retorted Peggy. “Dar ain’t 
no use tryin’ to git out ob dat. Dat old Miss Keswick 
done gone an’ kunjered Mahs’ Robert, an’ dey’s boun’ 
to git mar’ed. I done heared all ’bout it, an’ she’s 
cornin’ h’yar to lib wid Mahs’ Robert. But dat don’ 
379 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

make no dif ’rence to me. I’se gwine to lib wid Mahs’ 
Junius an’ Miss Rob in New York, I is. But I’se 
mighty sorry for you-all.” 

“ You Peggy,” shouted the irate Aunt Judy, “shut 
up wid your fool talk ! When Mahs’ Robert marry 
dat ole jimpsun-weed, de angel Gabr’el blow his hohn, 
shuh.” 

Slowly driving along the road to her home, the 
widow Keswick gazed cheerfully at the blue sky 
above her and the pleasant autumn scenery around 
her, sniffed the fine fresh air, delicately scented with 
the odor of falling leaves, and settling herself into a 
more comfortable position on her seat, she compla- 
cently said to herself: “Well, I reckon dear Robert 
is about as happy as I can make him.” 


380 


CHAPTER XXXI 


There were two reasons why Peggy could not go to 
live with “ Mahs’ Junius and Miss Rob ” in Xew York. 
In the first place, this couple had no intention of set- 
ting up an establishment in that city j and secondly, 
Peggy? as Roberta well knew, was not adapted by 
nature to be her maid, or the maid of any one else. 
Peggy’s true vocation in life was to throw her far- 
away gaze into futurity, and, as far as in her lay, to 
adapt present circumstances to what she supposed was 
going to happen. It would have delighted her soul 
if she could have been the adept in conjuring which 
she firmly believed the widow Keswick to be; but 
as she possessed no such gift, she made up the defi- 
ciency, as well as she could, by mixing up her mind, 
her soul, and her desires into a sort of witch’s hodge- 
podge, which she thrust as a spell into the affairs of 
other people. Twice had the devices of this stupid - 
looking wooden peg of a negro girl stopped Lawrence 
Croft in the path he was following in his pursuit of 
Roberta March. If Lawrence had known, at the 
time, what Peggy was doing, he would have con- 
sidered her an unmitigated little demon ; but after- 
wards, if he could have known of it, he would have 
thought her a very unprepossessing and conscience- 
less guardian angel. 


381 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


As it was, he knew not what she had done, and 
did not consider her at all. 

Junius Keswick took much more delight in farming 
than he did in the practice of the law, and it was only 
because he had felt himself obliged to do so that he 
had adopted the legal profession. To be a farmer, 
one must have a farm $ but a lawyer can frequently 
make a living from the lands of other men. He was 
very willing, therefore, to agree to the plan which 
for years had been Mr. Brandon’s most cherished 
scheme : that he and Roberta should make their 
home at Midbranch, and that he should take charge 
of the estate, which would be his wife’s property after 
the old gentleman’s decease. Roberta was as fond of 
the country as was Junius, but she was also a city 
woman ; and it was arranged that the couple should 
spend a portion of each winter in New York, at the 
house of Mr. March. 

Junius and Roberta, as well as her father, hoped 
very much that they might be able to induce Mr. 
Brandon to come to New York to attend the wedding, 
which was to take place the middle of January ; but 
they were not confident of success, for they knew the 
old gentleman disliked very much to travel, especially 
in winter. Three very pressing letters were therefore 
written to Mr. Brandon ; and the writers were much 
surprised to receive, in a short time, a collective 
answer, in which he stated that he would not only be 
present at the wedding, but that he thought of spend- 
ing several months in New York. It would be very 
lonely at Midbranch, he wrote, without Roberta, — 
though why it should be more so this year than dur- 
ing preceding winters he did not explain,— and he felt 
382 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


a desire to see the changes that had taken place in 
the metropolis since he had visited it, years ago. 

They would not have been so much surprised had 
they known that Mr. Brandon did not feel himself safe 
in his own home, by night or by day. Frequently 
had he gazed out of a window at the point in the road 
on which the first sight of an approaching spring- 
wagon could have been caught, and had said to him- 
self : “If only Roberta were here, that old hag would 
not dare to speak a word to me ! I don’t want to go 
away, but, by George ! I don’t see how I can stay 
here without Rob.” 

There was a short, very black, and somewhat bow- 
legged negro man on the place, named Israel Bona- 
parte, who lived in a little cabin by himself, and was 
noted for his unsocial disposition and his taciturnity. 
To him Mr. Brandon went one day, and said : u Israel, 
I want you to go to work on the fence-rows on my 
side of the road to Howlett’s. Grub up the bushes, 
clear out the vines and weeds, and see that the rails 
and posts are all in order. That will be a job that I 
expect will last you until the roads begin to get heavy. 
And, by the way, Israel, while you are at work I 
want you to keep a lookout for any visitors that may 
turn into our road, especially if they happen to be 
ladies. How that Miss Rob is away, I am very par- 
ticular about knowing beforehand when ladies are 
coming to visit me ; and when you see any wagon or 
carriage turn in, I want you to make a short cut across 
the fields, and let me know it, and I will give you a 
quarter of a dollar every time you do so.” This was 
a very pleasant job of work for the meditative Israel. 
He was not very fond of grubbing, but he earned the 
383 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


greater part of his ten dollars a month and rations by 
sitting on the fence, smoking a corn-cob pipe, and 
attending to the second division of the work which 
his employer had set him to do. 

Lawrence Croft was in New York at this time, a 
very busy man, arranging his affairs in that city so 
that they would not need his personal attention for 
some time to come; he sublet, for the remainder of 
his lease, the suite of bachelor apartments he had oc- 
cupied, and he stored his furniture and books. One 
might have imagined that he was taking in all pos- 
sible sails, close reefing the others, battening down 
the hatches, and preparing to run before a storm ; and 
yet his demeanor did not indicate that he expected 
any violent commotion of the elements. On the con- 
trary, his friends and acquaintances thought him par- 
ticularly blithe and gay. He told them he was going 
to be married. 

u To that Virginia lady, I suppose / 7 said one. “ I 
remember her very well, and consider you fortunate . 77 

u I don’t think you ever met her , 77 said Mr. Croft. 
u She is a Miss Peyton, from King Thomas County . 77 

u Ah ! 77 remarked his interlocutor. 

Lawrence walked to the window of the club-room, 
and stood there, slowly puffing his cigar. Had any- 
body met this one? he thought. He knew she had 
seen but little company during her father’s life, but 
was it likely that any of his acquaintances had had 
business at Candy’s Information Shop? As this idea 
came into his mind, there seemed to be something 
unpleasant in the taste of his cigar, and he threw it 
into the fire. A few turns, however, up and down the 
now almost deserted rooms restored his tone. He 


384 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


lighted another cigar ; and now there came up before 
him a vision of the girl who, from loyalty to her dead 
father, preferred to sit all day behind Candy’s money- 
desk rather than go to a relative who had not been 
his friend. And then he saw the young girl who took 
up so courageously the cause of one of her own blood 
— the boy cousin of her childhood ; and with a lover’s 
pride, Lawrence thought of the dash, the spirit, and 
the bravery with which she had done it. 

u By George ! ” he said to himself, his eyes sparkling 
and his step quickening, u she has more in her than all 
the rest of them put together ! ” 

Who were included in “ the rest of them ” Lawrence 
was not prepared just then to say, but the expression 
was intended to have a very wide range. 

It was about the middle of December when Law- 
rence paid another visit to Mrs. Keswick’s house. 
The day was cold but clear, and as he drove up to the 
outer gate, he saw the old lady returning from a walk 
to Howlett’s. She stepped along briskly, and was in 
a very good humor, for she had just posted a carefully 
concocted letter to Mr. Brandon, in which she had 
expatiated, in her peculiar style, on the pleasure which 
she expected from an early visit to Midbranch. She 
had not the slightest idea of going there at present, 
but she thought it quite time to freshen up the old 
gentleman’s anticipations. 

Descending from his carriage to meet her, Lawrence 
was very warmly greeted, and the two went up to the 
house together. 

u I expect the late Mrs. Null will be very glad to 
see you,” said Mrs. Keswick. “ I think she has burnt 
up all her widow’s weeds.” 

385 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“ You should be very much obliged to your niece / 7 
said Mr. Croft, “ for so delicately ridding you of that 
dreadful fertilizer man . 77 

“ Humph ! 77 said the old lady. “ She cheated me 
out of the pleasure of telling him what I thought of 
him, and I shall never forgive her for that . 77 

As Lawrence and Annie sat together in the parlor 
that evening, he told her what he had been doing in 
Hew York, and this brought to her lips a question 
which she was very anxious to have answered. She 
knew that Lawrence was rich ; that his methods of 
life and thought made him a man of the cities ; and 
she felt quite certain that the position to which he 
would conduct her was that of the mistress of a hand- 
some town house, and the wife of a man of society. 
She liked handsome town houses, and she was sure she 
would like society ; but it would all be very new and 
strange to her, and although she was a brave girl at 
heart, she shrank from making such a plunge as this. 

“How are we going to live ? 77 repeated Lawrence. 
“ That, of course, is to be as you shall choose ; but I 
have a plan to propose to you, and I want very much 
to hear what you think about it. And the plan is 
that we shall not live anywhere for a year or two, but 
wander, fancy-free, over as much of the world as 
pleases us, and then decide where we shall settle 
down, and how we shall like to do it . 77 

If Annie’s answer had been expressed in words, it 
might have been given here. It may be said, however, 
that it was very quick, very affirmative, and, in more 
ways than one, highly satisfactory to Lawrence. 

“Is it London, and a landlady, and tea ? 77 she 
presently asked. 


386 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


“Yes, it is that,” he said. 

“Is it the shops on the Boulevards?” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence. 

“And the Appian Way? and the island of Capri? 
and snow mountains in the distance ? ” she asked. 

“ In their turn, most certainly,” said her lover, “ and 
it shall be the midnight sun, and the Nile, if you like.” 

“ Freddy,” exclaimed the late Mrs. Null, “ I thank 
thee for what thou hast given me ! ” And she clasped 
the hand of Lawrence in both her own. 


387 


CHAPTER XXXII 

The marriage of Junius Keswick and Roberta March 
was appointed for the 15th of January, and Mr. 
Brandon had arranged to be in New York a few days 
before the event. He intended, however, to leave 
Midbranch soon after the first of the year, and to 
spend a week with some of his friends in Richmond. 

It was on the afternoon of New Year’s Hay, and 
Mr. Brandon was sitting in his library with Colonel 
Pinckney Macon, an elderly gentleman of social habits 
and genial temper whom Mr. Brandon had invited to 
Midbranch to spend the holidays, and who was after- 
wards to be his travelling companion as far as Rich- 
mond. The two had had a very good dinner, and 
were now sitting before the fire smoking their pipes, 
and paying occasional attention to two tumblers of 
egg-nog which stood on a small table between them. 
They were telling anecdotes of olden times, and were 
in very good humor indeed, when a servant came in 
with a note which had just been brought for Mr. 
Brandon. The old gentleman took the missive, and 
put on his eyeglasses ; but the moment he read the 
address, he let his hand fall on his knee, and gave vent 
to an angry ejaculation. 

“It’s from that rabid old witch, the widow Kes- 
388 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


wick ! ” he exclaimed. “ I’ve a great mind to throw it 
into the fire without reading it.” 

“ Don’t do that ! ” cried Colonel Macon. “ It is a 
New Year present she is sending you. Read it, sir 5 
read it, by all means.” 

Mr. Brandon had given his friend an account of 
his unexampled and astounding persecutions by the 
widow Keswick, and the old colonel had been much 
interested thereby, and it would have greatly grieved 
his soul not to become acquainted with this new 
feature of the affair. “ Read it, sir,” he cried ; “ I 
would like to know what sort of New Year congratu- 
lations she offers you.” 

“ Congratulations, indeed ! ” said Mr. Brandon, “ you 
needn’t expect anything of that kind.” But he opened 
the note, and, turning so that he could get a good 
light upon it, began to read aloud as follows : 

“My dearest Robert,” 

“ Confound it, sir ! ” exclaimed the reader, “ did 
you ever hear of such a piece of impertinence as 
that?” 

Colonel Pinckney Macon leaned back in his chair 
and laughed aloud. “It is impertinent,” he cried, 
“but it’s confoundedly jolly! Go on, sir. Go on, I 
beg of you.” 

Mr. Brandon continued— 

“ It is not for me to suggest anything of the kind, but 
I write this note simply to ask you what you would think 
of a triple wedding ? There would certainly be some- 
thing very touching about it, and it would be very satis- 
factory and comforting, I am sure, to our nieces and their 
husbands to know that they were not leaving either of 
389 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


us to a lonely life. Would we not make three happy pairs, 
dear Robert ? Remember, I do not propose this; I only 
lay it before your kindly and affectionate heart. 
i&i* “Your own 

“Martha Ann Keswick. ” 

^dolonel Macon, who, with much difficulty and red- 
ness of face, had restrained himself during the reading 
of this note, now burst into a shout of laughter, while 
Mr. Brandon sprang to his feet, and, crumpling the 
note in his hand, threw it into the fire ; and then, 
turning around, he exclaimed : “ Did the world ever 
hear anything like that ! Triple wedding, indeed ! 
Does the pestiferous old shrew imagine that anything 
in this world would induce me to marry her ? ” 

“Why, my dear sir,” cried Colonel Macon, “of 
course she don’t. I know the widow Keswick as 
well as you do. She wouldn’t marry you to save your 
soul, sir. All she wants to do is to worry and perse- 
cute you, and to torment your senses out of you, in 
revenge for your having got the better of her. Now, 
take my advice, sir, and don’t let her do it.” 

“ I’d like to know how I am going to hinder her,” 
said Mr. Brandon. 

“ Hinder her ! ” exclaimed Colonel Macon. “ Noth- 
ing easier in this world, sir ! Just you turn right 
square round and face her, sir, and you’ll see that 
she’ll stop short, sir; and, what’s more, she’ll run, 
sir ! ” 

“ How am I to face her? ” asked Mr. Brandon. “I 
have faced her, and I assure you, sir, she didn’t run.” 

“ That was because you did not go to work in the 
right way,” said the colonel. “ Now, if I were in your 
place, sir, this is what I would do : I’d turn on her 
390 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


and I’d scare her out of all the wits she has left. I’d 
say to her : 1 Madam, I think your proposition is an 
excellent one. I am ready to marry yon to-day, or, 
at the very latest, to-morrow morning. I’ll come to 
your house, and bring a clergyman and some of my 
friends. Don’t let there be the least delay, for I desire 
to start immediately for New York, and to take you 
with me.’ Now, sir, a note like that would frighten 
that old woman so that she would leave her house, 
and wouldn’t come back for six weeks ; and the letter 
you have just burnt would be the last attack she 
would make on you. Now, sir, that is what I would 
do if I were in your place.” 

Mr. Brandon sat down, drained his tumbler of egg- 
nog, and began to think of what his friend had said. 
And as he thought of it, the conviction forced itself 
upon him that this idea of Colonel Macon’s was a good 
one— in fact, a splendid one. Now that he came to 
look upon the matter more clearly than he had done 
before, he saw that this persecution on the part of the 
widow Keswick was not only base, but cowardly. He 
had been entirely too yielding, had given way too 
much. Yes, he would face her ! By George, that was 
a royal idea ! He would turn round and make a dash 
at her, and scare her out of her five senses. 

Pens, ink, and paper were brought out; more 
egg-nog was ordered ; and Mr. Brandon, aided and 
abetted by Colonel Macon, wrote a letter to Mrs. 
Keswick. 

This letter took a long time to write, and was very 
carefully constructed. With outstretched hands, Mr. 
Brandon met the old lady on the very threshold of her 
proposition. He stated that nothing would please him 
391 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


better than an immediate wedding, and that he would 
have proposed it himself had he not feared that the 
lady would consider him too importunate. (This ex- 
pression was suggested by Colonel Macon.) In order 
that they might lose no time in making themselves 
happy, Mr. Brandon proposed that the marriage 
should take place in a week, and that the ceremony 
should be performed in Richmond. (The colonel 
wished him to say that he would immediately go to 
her house for the purpose, but Mr. Brandon would not 
consent to write this. He was afraid that the widow 
would sit at her front door with a shot-gun and wait 
for him, and that some damage might thereby come 
to an unwary neighbor.) Each of them had many old 
friends in Richmond, and it would be very pleasant to 
be married there. He intended to start for that city 
in a day or two, and he would be rejoiced to meet her 
at eleven o’clock on the morning of the 5th instant, 
in the corridor or covered bridge connecting the Ex- 
change and Ballard hotels, and there arrange all the 
details for an immediate marriage. The letter closed 
with an earnest hope that she would accede to this 
proposed plan, which would so soon make them the 
happiest couple upon earth, and was signed “Your 
devoted Robert.” 

“ By which I mean,” said Mr. Brandon, “ that I am 
devoted to her destruction.” 

The letter was read over by Colonel Macon, and 
highly approved by him. “If you had met that 
woman, sir, when she first came to you,” he said to 
Mr. Brandon, “with the spirit that is shown in this 
letter, you would have put a shiver through her, sir, 
that would have shaken the bones out of her umbrella, 
392 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

and she would have cut and run, sir, before you 
knew it.” 

The messenger from Howlett’s was kept at Mid- 
branch all night, and the next morning he was sent 
back with Mr. Brandon’s note. Two days afterwards 
Colonel Macon and Mr. Brandon started for Richmond, 
and in the course of a few hours they were comfort- 
ably sipping their “ peach and honey ” at the Exchange 
and Ballard’s. 

The next day was most enjoyably spent with a number 
of old friends ; and in reminiscences of the past war, 
and in discussions of the coming political campaign, Mr. 
Brandon had thrown off every sign of the annoyance 
and persecution to which he had lately been subjected. 

“ By George, sir ! ” said Colonel Macon to him, the 
next morning, “ do you know that you are a most un- 
trustworthy and perfidious man ? ” 

“Sir!” exclaimed Mr. Brandon, “what do you 
mean ? ” 

“I mean,” replied Colonel Pinckney Macon, with 
much dignity, “ that you promised at eleven o’clock 
to-day to meet a lady in the corridor connecting these 
two hotels. It wants three minutes of that time now, 
sir, and here you are reading the ‘ Despatch ’ as if you 
never made a promise in your life.” 

“ I declare,” said Mr. Brandon, rising, “ my conduct 
is indefensible ; but I am going to my room, and, on 
my way, will keep my part of the contract.” 

“ I will go with you,” said the colonel. 

Together they mounted the stairs and approached 
the corridor ; and as they opened its glass doors they 
saw, sitting in a chair on one side of the passage, the 
widow Keswick. 


393 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


If Mr. Brandon had not been caught by his friend 
he would have fallen over backward. Regaining an 
upright position, he made a frantic turn as if he would 
fly 5 but he was not quick enough ; Mrs. Keswick had 
him by the arm. 

“ Robert ! ” she exclaimed. “ 1 knew how true and 
faithful you would be. It has just struck eleven. 
How do you do, Colonel Macon? ” And she extended 
her hand. 

There was no one in the corridor at the time but 
these three ; but the place was much used as a passage- 
way, and Colonel Macon, who was very pale, but still 
retained his presence of mind, knew well that if any 
one were to come along at this moment, it would be 
decidedly unpleasant, not only for his friend, but him- 
self. u I am glad to meet you again, Mrs. Keswick,” 
he said. “ Let us go into one of the parlors. It will 
be more comfortable.” 

u How kind,” murmured Mrs. Keswick, as she clung 
to the arm of Mr. Brandon, “ for you to bring our good 
friend, Colonel Macon ! ” 

They went into a parlor, which was empty, and 
where they were not likely to be disturbed. Mr. 
Brandon walked there without saying a word. His 
face was as pallid as its well-seasoned color would 
allow, and he looked straight before him with an air 
which seemed to indicate that he was trying to re- 
member something terrible, or else trying to forget 
it, and that he himself did not know which it was. 

Colonel Macon did not stay long in the parlor. 
There was that in the air of Mrs. Keswick which 
made him understand that there were other places 
in Richmond where he would be much more welcome 
394 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


than in that room. He went down into the large 
hall where the gentlemen generally congregate, and 
there, in great distress of mind, he paced up and down 
the marble floor, exchanging nothing but the briefest 
salutations and answers with the acquaintances he 
occasionally encountered. The clerk, behind his 
desk at one side of the hall, had seen men walking up 
and down in that way, and he thought that the colonel 
had probably been speculating in tobacco or wheat ; 
but he knew he was good for the amount of his bill, 
and he retained his placidity. 

In about half an hour, there came down the stairs 
at one end of the hall an elderly person who some- 
what resembled Mr. Brandon of Midbranch. The 
clothes and the hat were the same that that gentle- 
man wore, and the same heavy gold chain with dan- 
gling seal-rings hung across his ample waistcoat ; but 
there was a general air of haggardness and stoop 
about him which did not in the least suggest the 
upright and portly gentleman who had written his 
name in the hotel register the day before yesterday. 

Colonel Macon made five strides towards him, and 
seized his hand. “ What,” said he, “ how— ? ” 

Mr. Brandon did not look at him ; he let his eyes 
fall where they chose,— it mattered not to him what 
they gazed upon,— and in a low voice he said : “It is 
all over.” 

“ Over ! ” repeated the colonel. 

Mr. Brandon put a feeble hand on his friend’s arm, 
and together they walked into the reading-room, 
where they sat down in a corner. 

“Have you settled it, then?” asked Colonel Macon, 
with great anxiety. “ Is she gone ? ” 

395 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 

“It is settled,” said Mr. Brandon. “We are to be 
married.” 

“ Married ! ” cried Colonel Macon, springing to his 
feet. “ Great heavens, man ! What do yon mean ? ” 

Not very fluently, and in sentences with a very few 
words in each of them, but words that sank like hot 
coals into the soul of his hearer, Mr. Brandon explained 
what he meant. It had been of no use, he said, to try 
to get out of it 5 the old woman had him with the grip 
of a vise. That letter had done it all. He ought to 
have known that she was not to be frightened. But it 
was needless to talk about that. It was all over now, 
and he was as much bound to her as if he had promised 
before a magistrate. 

“ But you don’t mean to say,” exclaimed the colonel, 
in a voice of anguish, “ that you are really going to 
marry her f ” 

“ Sir,” said Mr. Brandon, solemnly, “ there is no way 
to get out of it. If you think there is, you don’t know 
the woman.” 

“I would have died first,” said the colonel. “I 
never would have submitted to her ! ” 

“ I did not submit,” replied Mr. Brandon. “ That 
was done when the letter was written. I roused my- 
self, and I said everything I could say ; but it was all 
useless : she held me to my promise. I told her I 
would fly to the ends of the earth rather than marry 
her, and then, sir, she threatened me with a prosecu- 
tion for breach of promise ; and think of the disgrace 
that that would bring upon me— upon my family 
name, and on my niece and her young husband ! It 
was a mistake, sir, to suppose that she merely wished 
to persecute me. She wished to marry me, and she is 
396 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


going to do it.” The colonel bowed his face upon his 
hands and groaned. Mr. Brandon looked at him with 
a dim compassion in his eyes. u Do not reproach your- 
self, sir,” he said. 1 We thought we were acting for 
the best.” 

But little more was said, and two crushed old gen- 
tlemen retired to their rooms. 

In the days of her youth Mrs Keswick had been 
very well known in Richmond, and there were a good 
many elderly ladies and gentlemen now living in that 
city who remembered her as a handsome, sparkling, 
and somewhat eccentric young woman, and who had 
since heard of her as a decidedly eccentric old one. 
Mr. Brandon also had a large circle of friends and 
acquaintances in the city. And when it became known 
that these two elderly persons were to be married— and 
the news began to spread shortly after Mrs. Keswick 
reached the house of the friend with whom she was 
staying— it excited a great deal of excusable interest. 

Mrs. Keswick, according to her ordinary methods of 
action, took all the arrangements into her own hands. 
She appointed the wedding for the 8th of January, 
in order that the happy pair might go to New York 
and be present at the nuptials of Junius and Roberta. 
Mr. Brandon had thought of writing to Junius, in the 
hope that the young man might do something to avert 
his fate ; but remembering how utterly unable Junius 
had always been to move his aunt one inch, this way 
or that, he did not believe that he could be of any 
service in this case, in which all the energies of her 
mind were evidently engaged, and he readily con- 
sented that she should attend to all the correspond- 
ence. It would, indeed, have been too hard for him 
397 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


to break the direful truth to his niece and Junius. 
He ventured to suggest that Miss Peyton be sent for, 
having a faint hope that he might in some manner 
lean upon her ; but Mrs. Keswick informed him that 
her niece must stay at home to take charge of the 
place. There were two women in the house who were 
busy sewing for her, and it would be impossible for her 
to come to Kichmond. 

Her correspondence kept the widow Keswick very 
busy. She decided that she would be married in a 
church which she used to attend in her youth ; and to 
all of her old friends, and to all those of Mr. Brandon 
whose names she could learn by diligent inquiry, in- 
vitations were sent to attend the ceremony ; but no 
one outside of Bichmond was invited. 

The old lady did not come to the city with a purple 
sunbonnet and a big umbrella. She wore her best 
bonnet, which had been used for church-going pur- 
poses for many years, and arrayed herself in a travelling 
suit which was of excellent material, although of most 
antiquated fashion. She discussed very freely with 
her friends the arrangements she had made, and pro- 
tuberant candor being at times one of her most notice- 
able characteristics, she did not leave it altogether to 
others to say that the match she was about to make 
was a most remarkably good one. For years it had 
been a hard struggle for her to keep up the Keswick 
farm, but now she had fought a battle and won a 
victory which ought to make her comfortable and 
satisfied for the rest of her life. If Mr. Brandon’s 
family had taken a great deal from her, she would 
more than repay herself by appropriating the old 
gentleman, together with his possessions. 

398 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


After the depression following the first shock, Mr. 
Brandon endeavored to stiffen himself. There was a 
great deal of pride in him, and if he were obliged to go 
to the altar, he did not wish his old friends to suppose 
that he was going there to be sacrificed. He had 
brought this dreadful thing upon himself, but he 
would try to stand up like a man and bear it ; and, 
after all, it might not be for long : the widow Keswick 
was a good deal older than he was. Other thoughts 
occasionally came to comfort him : she could not make 
him continually live with her, and he had plans for 
visits to Richmond, and even to Kew York ; and, 
better than that, she might want to spend a good deal 
of time at her own farm. 

“ For the sake of my name and my niece,” he said 
to himself, 11 1 must bear it like a man.” 

And, in answer to an earnest adjuration, Colonel 
Pinckney Macon solemnly promised that he would 
never reveal, to man or woman, that his friend did 
not marry the widow Keswick entirely of his own 
wish and accord. 

It was the desire of Mrs. Keswick that the marriage, 
although conducted in church, should be very simple 
in its arrangements. There would be no bridesmaids 
or groomsmen $ no flowers ; no breakfast ; and the 
couple would be dressed in travelling costume. The 
friends of the old lady persuaded her to make con- 
siderable changes in her attire, and a costume was 
speedily prepared, which, while it suggested the fash- 
ions of the present day, was also calculated to recall 
reminiscences of those of a quarter of a century ago. 
This simplicity was the only thing connected with the 
affair which satisfied Mr. Brandon, and he would have 
399 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


been glad to have the marriage entirely private, with 
no more witnesses than the law demanded. But to 
this Mrs. Keswick would not consent. She wanted to 
have her former friends about her. Accordingly, the 
church was pretty well filled with old colonels, old 
majors, old generals, and old judges, with their wives 
and their sisters, and, in a few cases, their daughters. 
All the elderly people in Richmond who, in the days 
of their youth, had known the gay Miss Matty Petti- 
grew and the handsome Bob Brandon felt a certain 
rejuvenation of spirit as they went to the wedding of 
the couple who had once been these two. 

The old lady looked full of life and vigor, and, de- 
spite the circumstances, Mr. Brandon preserved a good 
deal of his usual manly deportment. But when, in 
the course of the marriage service, the clergyman 
came to the question in which the bridegroom was 
asked if he would have this woman to be his wedded 
wife, to love and keep her for the rest of their lives, 
the answer, “ I will, 7 ’ came forth in a feeble tone, which 
was not wholly divested of a tinge of despondency. 

With the lady it was quite otherwise. When the 
like question was put to her, she stepped back, and in 
a loud, clear voice exclaimed : “ Not I ! Marry that 
man there?” she continued in a higher tone, and 
pointing her finger at the astounded Mr. Brandon. 
“Not for the world, sir! Before he was born, his 
family defrauded and despoiled my people, and as 
soon as he took affairs into his own hands, he continued 
the villainous law robberies until we are poor and he 
is rich ; and, not content with that, he basely wrecks 
and destroys the plans I had made for the comfort of 
my old age, in order that his paltry purposes may be 
400 


THE LATE MRS. NULL 


carried out. After all that, does anybody here suppose 
that I would take him for a husband ? Marry him ! 
Not I ! ” And, with these words, the old lady turned 
her back on the clergyman and walked rapidly down 
the centre aisle until she reached the church door. 
There she stopped, and turning towards the stupefied 
assemblage, she snapped her bony fingers in the air, 
and exclaimed: “Now, Mr. Robert Brandon of Mid- 
branch, our account is balanced.” 

She then went out of the door, and took a street-car 
for the train that would carry her to her home. 


401 


















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